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.

  A, }8 m! k, A. C 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.
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Heaven
4 I$ j1 h% d  M, |( M, [  w$ g The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
2 K1 c4 J' j$ n* x  x+ U A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
2 |) _5 S4 h( N
6 p8 L7 O4 f! [1 i The pebble's place in our world
) \& f+ m: C$ X8 j6 ^ Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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; `7 Q+ D2 D; X# b1 o The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
, q9 E4 P- d, y* [) {- \% L" q Spiral outwards
' K- g$ p& u& `) c# R Moving far beyond itself.
; [5 Z( u) P# @9 @  B+ }" N( L% x) `: N' ~ Gently affecting everything in its wake
: `3 ]  I( g, M6 V Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
. q% X* q# Q. P, q3 f  N Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
$ J4 d0 K0 @4 E* Z0 b) r But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
/ q8 z( x/ j& i4 a- r/ H on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
  m% w$ C! ~1 K7 n; r. ^7 J1 g! ~1 | Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
% y  f  W/ c, k; y Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
% O+ x7 E, r2 p9 u5 ]7 |& H that leave unique mark on our world
5 ?, ~, [; i3 v/ \; K Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
2 ~. y9 ?# ~, u, G: Z7 }# W8 u But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
, I- I5 Y7 g7 b' I& l Because even the smallest pebble
$ ?/ C; h1 f! v0 ^2 y) S' x% j No matter how seemingly insignificant
: c* o. p) w9 o& p! G3 T) F, q Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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) _% M# C8 V; m+ L And when the icy winds of death
0 |2 \  O3 [7 n* t0 ~$ I2 K beckon our lasting attention
/ U' F: l* o, U2 X" |9 } We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
/ R4 y  P! D& ?/ U7 y: n because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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9 L8 L0 a+ M4 S$ T And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
9 g! m- s9 u  r: m: k 8/18/03