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.
  i) a% `& M& Q* |' I, t9 V3 C: x
, _! \5 k, K% t) o+ p9 {* t* x Heaven
1 [' w; z) Y$ m+ a; y The pebble is worn smooth
! a, Y: w- R5 U2 g- |; m  u Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
' p! l% B0 X( i A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
) O; B/ K- `9 e An accidental offspring of a boulder
/ _. A+ Z# R, C7 W+ f1 I But just a very small stone.
8 l/ v4 @9 b( T8 F
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

, B0 {- d; g" Q6 j The instant the pebble kisses the pond
; f, g  K3 X. H Its signature of concentric ripples
# G. @2 S; S% S# t- \ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
7 Y3 B# M8 V9 q' {# P: ~; @" e! n Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
# @! h2 d2 Y1 j/ G2 m3 q
, _+ z" Q. H( v, k2 O0 x The pebble creates its worth and meaning
/ o6 `' X+ ?; Y% I/ b" a By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
/ j2 V' ?' G5 n8 J1 R. Z Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
# M1 y" t) h8 [+ O1 U! b1 g
Aren't we all pebbles?
% U# B: ?7 d1 l9 a8 B7 L, l Feeling small and insignificant
. _6 J* u6 R: Y9 R5 W- ^* A But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
" n) j# Y, S5 ~# w Can never be measured in isolation
- Y" i' `4 ?& h" t; i" o3 z) L on a path into ourselves.

0 [" X" i# m. ^ It is true then:
& }1 E, X* e: W8 f% x3 D5 r, j Our everlasting future
1 h9 V* m; B8 U) A# O5 b Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
0 a* f: l$ w' S4 e  p; X1 j Into the pond of life
" E" Z2 R5 _8 U5 {% } Creating ripples
, C6 U- j$ w0 d0 o  m4 t that leave unique mark on our world
- R7 p2 X9 c/ T9 g: Q" w2 Z Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
9 Z( Y. r3 N  i" o3 ^  y& O But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
0 A* C; N+ F5 b* W- R: `0 X$ z0 A Of those we touch.?
- D0 T# {7 C  U5 \; G' a6 H) D
. @  E$ a% V! S. U And when the icy winds of death
: p, z: a% L$ i  g6 B beckon our lasting attention
8 v% Y8 Y0 X. k8 f# | We will gently leave this life
  z* X! l0 ?9 e/ h% D0 d With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
1 `9 U8 g2 @# d! N: H4 ~- b/ w$ r# e The world will never be the same.

3 @7 O3 n7 U0 Z0 v9 R8 X2 Z: j+ Z And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
6 J9 Z5 }9 [' g0 r: I- D: U- W" h 8/18/03