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.
( Z/ C  ^: E6 |7 q0 ?) V6 C1 B6 J) h
. h0 p: [+ @0 b# v" L0 b7 F7 Q1 m 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.
4 c1 U$ l. A1 I# N
Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
: _  R& J1 n+ s4 S# I/ O A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 U5 R, V+ R/ ^9 H: f# C7 h A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
  R& w: G7 a7 p9 ~/ Y0 x, A' I- Y But just a very small stone.
. U7 H& R, C: J; y, h2 o9 d5 x
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
" J& l+ _# N: n  G* i, y& |8 D Its insignificance is transformed
* Q2 P5 o  g: I  a* O. n Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

$ I# K5 _1 T$ ]- |9 a The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ S6 n2 `: g& |/ z) H( N: R Its signature of concentric ripples
5 C# T0 o# G! ]1 \  |1 ^' F" x Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
0 t, m* A" M/ s) [" d1 I0 z; I By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
9 `& W! I3 J1 R# u Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
$ e8 H* _; j0 K# ]3 I3 g# V4 Y: [
3 f1 @6 f: ]8 g, t4 i* Q% s6 A Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
: ^( a# K5 S/ w/ b Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

* ^5 {" G/ M& g) _& d It is true then:
Our everlasting future
) }; {0 c7 M0 W Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
3 [- E: K* B# P6 b; q& S0 p3 x0 W Creating ripples
$ e9 P3 ?/ k+ J7 D, C% x, } that leave unique mark on our world
6 V1 K. o' ?$ l) z# _7 W/ b Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
9 n5 R$ H! f6 s  A2 I5 v Changes the course of the lives
- `" o. @$ ]3 \4 F( j& m Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
/ s, Q5 I' ]- o We will gently leave this life
6 A- G, p& M2 f( H' E With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
0 A; K+ H/ h2 R% u; u; A) u8 ?* S The world will never be the same.

9 }) c3 M/ `$ V3 q. w& [' a" ] And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
3 O4 G2 E/ n. x) u0 { 8/18/03