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.

0 U- [: A! l% h! t. _; T! 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.
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! h* e5 t! I+ U" \) R: j& a. X' H Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
) E9 o2 k5 L. [+ J0 s A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
9 H2 x+ I1 A, Q  ^. C8 c8 L But just a very small stone.

. \( @2 ~0 ?9 Z% C9 ? The pebble's place in our world
; F# h( p2 ~+ A Is neither understood nor appreciated
0 @# |, Y! O+ N3 U  z# }4 x6 T' k But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
7 z4 i9 ^/ K% j4 Y. F5 t: I% p) }/ W Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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! K, E1 ^# T* ]- Z* V4 X The instant the pebble kisses the pond
, c" o5 Z. T& F' i$ _5 H Its signature of concentric ripples
) v( z0 c/ f+ p5 i2 J" q9 x9 r Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
0 I5 ~5 y* K% ~, K2 o7 X( L
6 U& D/ }7 l( H) M The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
4 H. b/ ?2 _. g6 r: E1 U Creating karmic energy
7 d/ I0 l, ^- o: x: q6 g+ g Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
% t/ k. y$ Q1 ~ But ultimately recognizing
+ K# y+ A' Y- @; i, ?: T( G That who we are meant to be
) v1 C9 U9 g/ X9 u Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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0 b& p1 M) @  S! d It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
) ]+ N& {$ L1 T3 Q. j Creating ripples
1 {( o! p( Z& f9 I" O that leave unique mark on our world
; A, R4 F/ J% ?  B Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
8 J7 E0 d$ \: m But because of actions.

" }$ h( e7 _  V: E& V) P Our life's prayers our answered
! S( H8 [/ e$ B) |& t2 [  f" d- i Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
' g' @' X/ b+ w6 ?/ h. T! H Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
8 f) c& |0 I- u7 V We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
1 Z7 H$ N9 t& ?+ v9 O The world will never be the same.
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& |/ X+ s% Z" H5 N9 \ And then we have heaven …
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6 [: r( x+ x/ Y# Q Ross Rosenberg
* r% t& {! F# w  ~# U" t 8/18/03