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.
: [( a) x# Q; K- M' q# |, C+ Q. U
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.
1 f* F1 g9 r8 E5 U
" @9 W6 w9 S0 y0 G Heaven
2 ^$ d" [, _' `# j- L The pebble is worn smooth
9 }$ L- F$ _! u5 M Made small over time
- {" r/ e- g1 w% e A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
3 M* a) w& j' J! Q! P A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
3 g' N  S+ a8 @0 U% z1 T, J7 w2 D An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
5 D9 C7 u5 h$ w9 _
7 J4 b- d- A* u* _ The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
. f1 s5 ~$ Q2 l0 X# j( I7 v1 Q* g But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! _: h- D7 c- B Its insignificance is transformed
0 R# x+ C! H, v9 x7 _! G Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

& N& C' {4 c+ ~- q+ B% f3 l/ Z The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
) C5 E  W# K% O& J$ g  K) ? Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
) Y: n% \2 K6 J$ S- `, w$ g4 G By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
8 f( ~2 R' X' `$ e* P Feeling small and insignificant
; ~. O) J  F/ P" P7 Y6 H: M0 _6 d But ultimately recognizing
% Z9 `% h1 b3 \+ h6 s8 J That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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$ q: P+ n- V4 S$ z7 p, W It is true then:
Our everlasting future
# n; W* ?7 ?0 U, C4 M4 l Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
* b9 w% u$ B% R! c. H4 K4 W Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
. o+ L9 E, J9 R. b& {/ D Not because of thoughts
3 ]% u1 w7 _" I not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

, c5 Q& m8 D4 n+ u2 \# @- T- ? Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
6 p. O* g, R; w/ N( T& ]3 \+ E Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
* {+ Z# l. ^1 m: V- Y$ O- B We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
; i" H0 B0 z' t' d because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03