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 w0 O7 z* h! U2 R+ P' K0 ? 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.

Heaven
, l6 G6 ]9 O9 b' a5 u; [8 g8 J The pebble is worn smooth
/ z% }3 ]) q- {& _$ x7 R( {: Y Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
. ?- @$ T! q8 m: P* j+ N) D A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, d4 ~+ A. l1 R% P5 l An accidental offspring of a boulder
( D5 q$ j8 T! w# i* {& v% D But just a very small stone.

  p( J, w9 p5 w& C The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
+ t. C7 C) b7 u5 W* T Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
' O) }. s3 p1 o$ l
# s0 c: [2 _) U6 S% }$ L# h0 F The instant the pebble kisses the pond
, P  R- j2 `5 e; }* w7 M Its signature of concentric ripples
6 P; @* M1 R; c( k5 C* a# ^9 u* Q0 e Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
& d: v0 O6 a- g( R0 L Gently affecting everything in its wake
8 {; G) M7 I1 t4 H Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
! H& a9 ?: Q' U) e
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
$ g$ y( o$ g& y Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
4 U! q" `6 E# e, n
0 S" Y' C4 R0 v2 H- D' E% p Aren't we all pebbles?
/ _. c1 ~, @$ g1 _! A Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
5 o9 ]2 P) L( ^2 X Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
; G0 h0 S- t4 m8 b7 w1 Q Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
* [4 _) V1 o% J5 K2 ]3 b3 w that leave unique mark on our world
2 C' [+ f' Z. h  a& a5 P" G$ u" e% e Not because of thoughts
9 U$ r" w0 H) h& x not because of well meaning plans
/ r2 W, ]7 c; j/ W  u6 `! u( R But because of actions.
. R+ t6 a4 N% Q1 M5 b  p( r
Our life's prayers our answered
4 W: o( A/ M: [+ ~, _ Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
0 u) \5 J) l3 V9 E6 m9 n. ~  k' | Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
1 a: B3 K8 i" V5 G5 V3 u beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
# S( J( c+ ?! D% ? The world will never be the same.

" A1 {- V5 `0 e) V9 r" E; z And then we have heaven …

; m6 ^9 ?4 b9 B. _' y8 O Ross Rosenberg
& j6 M) z! d: A2 r( f! F 8/18/03