Heaven

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Seven years ago I was asked by a friend if I was "religious and if I believed in God?" As a (formerly) practicing agnostic I quickly answered:"no." However, I defended myself by explaining that I lived my life according to universal principals of "right and wrong" (as I understood them). Because I believed that our deeds create a lasting effect on the world, I felt confident in my everlasting future. In other words, I wasn't worried about there being a heaven or not. I told my friend that when I die, I am banking on knowing that my impact on the world will be ever lasting. My "heaven" will ultimately be the creation of the the sum total of all my actions.

I will never forget my friend's response: he looked at me with glassy eyes, and told me how deeply spiritual I was. I didn't see it. It took five more years to see what he meant. Such was the inspiration of the following poem I wrote.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
8 A" D7 ~9 ~" {/ v5 _  q Made small over time
) N# M9 D. c! q* Y: z) a% _8 t A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
0 ?% y$ D8 v0 A0 M9 n0 g' i3 d8 g A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
. _5 R; H& G/ |4 q$ M6 E$ f An accidental offspring of a boulder
; c8 K) R; B8 L7 Z. m3 p7 m& i But just a very small stone.
/ v, `# V* O) l, N: C" J4 q8 }4 g
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
7 W+ M0 V# `) K8 ^1 _ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
1 {: u: N) n1 `6 W+ `! U! @4 N Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
0 w5 T- h7 ~, {: a
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
4 ~: O; r8 q: l5 ~# ] By unleashing its unimagined power?
* k% ^! C) v, j' N" |4 q# H Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
! s3 N$ Z) d* P8 ?% b5 ^, }7 ? Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

2 R9 `- H. P/ t Aren't we all pebbles?
( s# ^, k8 j, N' G: t% m* e8 X Feeling small and insignificant
! E7 L7 }% [% b0 X, v But ultimately recognizing
" t8 B2 x) e1 t- |7 z! R2 ] That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
6 d# d7 G) _2 m* q# A
3 q8 b  P. d2 L9 `) t It is true then:
Our everlasting future
  y7 r, i" a3 _3 }& S Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
  [7 i. u; Z# z1 v, [ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
9 \* p+ @# m: J, e9 o4 f* b that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
% B4 F% N& u: {5 E3 D) N. j2 z) J But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
0 p7 G, H& E0 a: A1 w2 j8 c Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
( J& \: W! v; w7 ~9 c
And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
% s" g2 `6 S: W! _' I! ] We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03