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.

  U5 ~% h& M: v! H 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.

0 O2 I% [  b+ [" S$ i Heaven
, M5 P! g9 N1 z6 y3 D# Z+ } The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
0 w  L# {5 }6 L/ m' d A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, y# ]3 l) u  D3 E An accidental offspring of a boulder
, M% f8 G) h% P( }" R) p: _ But just a very small stone.
3 S; Z/ Y% V. d: |% a+ P+ n
% x. A: n( k' r The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
! H! r) v" ?, n2 [" ^" F: o But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
( V' X, y5 X4 P
! A8 r5 V& B4 n, Y4 ] The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
8 j6 n8 ?5 E7 s1 J' K5 ?8 S# ^ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
9 m) s$ E$ G  V/ i- W- g Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
& D% \/ o3 _/ c8 F+ ^1 L By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
  N" n5 l$ u/ K7 t( T  C Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
, n  i% J8 U# P  m1 L" T8 z3 G% `
% |# i- w+ W# n! U. C* V( v Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
4 P1 j' e5 W4 m3 B# Z& p* p) Z7 P; m That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
2 N7 H) m: n7 r& H& h$ R
5 z3 Z) M0 r1 j, G It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) W: ?; W1 L; n( z" Y/ {5 e- O  D Into the pond of life
% E9 F& ]2 e! S% y Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
' a  C9 D0 n9 t# F. v Not because of thoughts
" j& m) A- t* f& \ not because of well meaning plans
6 g7 C1 y, q5 h* C- _' D& e  } But because of actions.
5 i5 ?) b; p' g6 z; C
/ b5 r& x5 k* \9 B& b Our life's prayers our answered
* w9 t8 K, A/ g# m, N Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
, o+ {7 v& g5 E& h Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
5 B$ e% x. X" G. p7 S$ ~; l beckon our lasting attention
% ?  L, D0 U  p* M) ~ We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

9 |2 `% L& H6 g8 Q% d4 B And then we have heaven …
3 B, n1 O& h- O) Y( \+ p5 T( G
6 ~3 V, t. F; k6 J, o; v' K6 T$ l5 S6 g Ross Rosenberg
# m" D# I! x4 h3 ]+ b 8/18/03