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
. F6 w! E  L6 l/ l Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
+ t: f5 D% G9 s But just a very small stone.
5 o1 ~1 `! r3 m, K7 t
The pebble's place in our world
) Z( _& O  a( W( d. N: u4 {0 h! p Is neither understood nor appreciated
/ ]" Q2 w" Z$ e% r; ^4 ~# I, y; ] But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
0 z; d: d$ y* f, N2 x Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
9 s$ x" V; `! N, Y Moving far beyond itself.
) n4 `9 [+ n2 y2 o4 w3 k1 ` Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
4 P, Z% e6 Z& l4 T4 @% N) @
$ b# w  L/ I/ O* ]% A) K The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
/ l4 `3 n7 ?. G& F7 @7 _  O4 \ Creating karmic energy
9 |! N4 y6 D8 E) p Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
1 }  i. X" b. O
Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
  {4 W- D% R7 e0 V" O/ { That who we are meant to be
- ?% M" e6 C  }% T3 K! n! _6 f Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

& @: ~3 G( n/ x0 q* D It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
8 e) h0 P; P7 K7 W* p% G  Y) K; r Not because of thoughts
+ y: x* P0 A0 E' d not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
0 Q  ]) B9 {& r Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
) I% S, l  a. s; t: e2 h5 J Changes the course of the lives
  o  U& K8 X$ j3 ^5 W Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
/ M4 q8 ?# ~+ T0 u7 V( \/ l beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
" R3 B' G4 Y( W& O+ K With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
" w, p+ @' K' U8 u& ]; M The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
, ~, f, A$ o7 }/ G6 w$ q# v
# y- o. u5 K6 _9 y6 q4 N Ross Rosenberg
' R6 N4 I! y# m: T  U5 l 8/18/03