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.

; W: n6 Q1 T# X; B9 C5 ^ 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.
9 r5 D6 b) q7 |5 t' J' K6 c
Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
3 {2 k, ~/ l, k6 i6 f A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
  l" C" |1 y; ?2 M An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
9 S3 G9 V: c' Z( @3 Z
; J7 |. B' W7 S# Y6 u2 x The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
5 w3 m9 b* l1 r( E' W0 z But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 [8 [2 L  G" n* k  D Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

5 d7 T0 d. j3 p; D/ H0 o9 ^% j The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ m7 H6 [& {1 h% u Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
# G- w: Y- ?' M& E Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
- M, L# w9 S( I! C0 [. ` Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
8 `7 J; `- I- r& F8 ^8 I1 B9 @
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
' j8 V2 ^2 X3 U By unleashing its unimagined power?
2 ]$ r% |& J# x& \2 }, v Into a dueling force of action and reaction
# c( J$ ~' L# z* G- e, Y3 g Creating karmic energy
5 _$ E. F, g; d/ r' ` Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
+ x" c% Y/ z! ^! v
7 }& T; h" c0 _2 H) Q! G3 V Aren't we all pebbles?
. C  N9 G6 q- z' ` Feeling small and insignificant
3 v7 C- r8 F) {2 F6 P0 G But ultimately recognizing
9 W/ g3 P" e, [* N That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
5 _3 n' }, h" n; c. a on a path into ourselves.

: L7 V8 n2 C; I- v! z; x( w9 B9 s It is true then:
2 r) n2 {. i. S& M5 x1 _ Our everlasting future
2 a5 A" F2 m  z) f! V2 x4 |  y0 g Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
& O* J  j4 a2 c& b Into the pond of life
2 M# r. L# u" C( {5 w' t4 t% q& u Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
$ I( _% T5 H' \' [ not because of well meaning plans
$ @4 u' v% \, y7 B4 `5 p# V But because of actions.
5 C+ o" r! u1 c5 i
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

3 b. V; }! J% T! u: b& J, a+ e And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
8 ?# g' ?3 d5 c With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

1 {  t; K, T0 r' V9 g/ X Ross Rosenberg
/ L8 l8 K+ V' L2 k" _& l 8/18/03