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.

9 Z: L' \# X0 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
( Y: A9 u  H- o( M6 f The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
+ ^+ e; |0 A2 _, O A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
$ `# r: D* M# h/ J An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
0 V7 `' y3 H' v; l" P5 y Is neither understood nor appreciated
$ G# Z+ o0 l# r9 x0 }% } But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

2 V+ I+ T( R, ]) k. K! C( R The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
* d& V8 v- `1 L# {! ` Spiral outwards
2 [$ R; W; t: D) a5 l, b/ D Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
  H" [: E+ ^, o) A( J4 J7 i Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
# l; `6 N4 J+ S$ P% { By unleashing its unimagined power?
! ^: M# a! V6 Z- A. b3 q Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
1 \1 g* h4 c+ U! v7 V- Z
" `6 g7 K  X  s9 s; @& n Aren't we all pebbles?
) y1 [$ c1 D# q. Z! G3 ` Feeling small and insignificant
+ N8 [5 m& E& \, C* U4 q But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
2 I5 C5 o* _% q9 ~  {- M5 W Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
0 w2 C* g* r& t1 r. Q Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
, A2 h4 \9 f# n: m. f6 b3 h Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
8 j7 g: T% _+ X# |) k; ~ that leave unique mark on our world
6 Y% J5 \5 _! d/ w- S( w Not because of thoughts
* W' `: Q1 g* d5 m; J% D not because of well meaning plans
) c3 J1 B( ?' D8 V( s( r& g) m! @ But because of actions.

& D' a9 U% m% |, A! Q9 \# O, o Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
( `5 b3 J: ]6 m. d" o4 G. { Of those we touch.?
6 Q$ G' m9 _* u6 s" G
" I# r6 h7 z6 z And when the icy winds of death
# U: M! H: m5 H! v9 P5 z2 i beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
1 k1 b' W2 j# S* i( x because of that one pebble
9 z# E( p$ S  Q. b8 Z The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
9 s3 Y3 M2 y1 j# n  T$ F* C: B 8/18/03