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.

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 V! l5 q: {" ?6 \7 U! a/ Z$ U5 @8 z6 H Heaven
6 ?8 ^8 e& C* s The pebble is worn smooth
4 u* X* v) q. O' e4 {7 _/ v Made small over time
! T! e" `  r# D; b' u' y. j0 T3 G 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.

The pebble's place in our world
- u- w! K8 _$ Y( W! _1 K: D' u Is neither understood nor appreciated
) S( x3 N" y( `' L But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 f1 v. r+ G  O9 e+ O Its insignificance is transformed
/ x& H9 [# ~1 W, K9 s Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
4 c; L! F" m& c) Z$ f( G* ]/ k8 M
0 e5 Q9 g. @+ g. ~. \7 c The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
+ s0 u( _% S) E+ E7 y+ X( ^ Spiral outwards
/ o0 e( F/ a' n Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
, I5 f7 o, m. C8 I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
8 J8 z2 ?6 I- n: b Creating karmic energy
( [- N- w% s0 ~, j5 u4 l Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

' D" P, @7 x) j; r& F0 ` Aren't we all pebbles?
/ Y7 T5 }9 g/ \$ G* v* V) ? Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
" c7 E% B2 t8 i$ b Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
) n: r0 G$ s/ q
  E3 _5 K% z) R- K% F, r, q It is true then:
Our everlasting future
$ u7 `0 |% ~% r$ X2 b Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
0 g  {( ~; W1 l% a8 L/ V Into the pond of life
& Z5 m4 n% R: X' x$ u+ N+ [ Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
( d: w$ |$ s- m* P$ c; r, T8 J2 y not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
0 D0 u) ]2 n& N' j Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
) m5 t1 b6 V% s& | Of those we touch.?
2 {5 t1 Z) i: g0 |
4 D# ^" M7 U" t2 x+ b/ n2 ?; @ And when the icy winds of death
9 x. j9 R5 Z' w8 ^8 M beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
  a- _2 g0 }4 S1 F' C' R With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

3 R, `. B. {) N; h+ K4 u And then we have heaven …
7 }0 y" S$ X0 V/ K
* @) K0 M7 R5 V: x0 c  a Ross Rosenberg
! @) U) P6 ?' J5 s+ g2 B 8/18/03