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.

8 a$ e6 Z/ l1 M0 f* _& \ 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.
, i( T- i; a. c
. c# s9 Z# W" ~% m" E( N Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: g# P2 g# v7 Z/ B! i1 ` A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
* H5 b4 I# J  e( \/ [ But just a very small stone.
8 A* x* n- w& V& i! ^- y
4 \) O" ^/ n  o' h The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
. g" u7 F% o3 p, R% K Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
, \4 |+ U8 d! R% d" N# X Its signature of concentric ripples
. i% y% j/ k$ \4 Z% T Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
9 S- f6 M1 l9 O, F
- U, T' L8 q) T. ~$ \" { The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
8 x* v" ~# s8 Y% a& q( Y- g Into a dueling force of action and reaction
7 g/ v5 F+ i- M+ d$ X3 v1 P+ D Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
" i8 G' D5 W' _ Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
. j. z& o. _4 k5 E Can never be measured in isolation
; j+ }/ E( }* A7 r on a path into ourselves.
, ~. w3 f- ^( j2 t
- N& v7 ^. O2 }8 R It is true then:
9 X- N8 V/ j3 c8 w9 k4 u Our everlasting future
2 G, m9 ?, U- \" L Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
, W7 x6 J! m9 @) G* B. } Creating ripples
4 h* C! Z0 p" b1 ~9 I that leave unique mark on our world
# V; o* M# _* {1 y9 q2 Z' r$ `+ L Not because of thoughts
0 g1 g5 n' y# W0 S1 |: ] not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
) I3 u5 r9 ]/ d) S/ E$ l  F; M: H
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
4 G! Y* C- \. l) T# W No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

! Z4 B: b" A4 R1 K* v And when the icy winds of death
- v' i. X! G4 R" i% ]; f beckon our lasting attention
# P) I( v4 F) Y5 E We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
* N& K0 ~, e& h1 q8 | The world will never be the same.

! N% X8 w& }- w7 J, n And then we have heaven …

, Y$ [  i# s1 [& u6 j. A/ N/ a Ross Rosenberg
+ R0 ]* i$ \0 |" w0 _3 ? 8/18/03