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.

# M! J( X( |3 ^& m) p, \ 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.

! f; b' T& n9 M  p- n* b3 l Heaven
1 l) M# [" @8 i3 C  U0 {; H The pebble is worn smooth
" L9 j& A! T. p2 t7 f% ~  ? Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
1 J# o. H6 y& ]0 [) O" S% N9 l But just a very small stone.
$ f2 Q) s- g: ~1 l/ U" M
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' l0 H5 S1 w- j3 h! Q8 | Its insignificance is transformed
/ Z( s; F( Y$ Z3 O  _ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
2 p  u9 E& E4 I$ v/ T: q2 @
3 |( _' _! X# ^; o6 A+ n( H The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
4 u. [- S' Z6 F0 |2 C Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
' _9 D6 u0 O* D- N. x4 ` Gently affecting everything in its wake
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
( w( g( ~" {: l4 T* p7 Y9 O9 } Creating karmic energy
7 V+ }- Z' Z* a. W' T4 R6 | Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
, D9 |" I0 x, E$ }6 I* P
Aren't we all pebbles?
' C. r! V/ i9 J1 ]% N Feeling small and insignificant
1 ]1 S; W7 `9 V- s But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
" j/ s# u! }. n% J on a path into ourselves.
, M* \, B, t/ Z0 l! z& X# w
- A% ?& f; l8 s7 } It is true then:
" w7 L2 E1 E+ P& b Our everlasting future
# [! \% J& D9 \* ` Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( k5 _( s# Q0 M( [0 o3 _ Into the pond of life
% [( ?* Y. V- n5 @4 ?! @ Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
- |+ Y- x# H7 R- i3 r- V3 u5 `1 s Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
; h9 H6 M7 |5 b2 L5 y* R. A But because of actions.

* c! F& W2 J! V8 q1 V+ j Our life's prayers our answered
8 R( G- c; c( x3 x Because even the smallest pebble
- \4 n+ I0 Z# d* J3 q3 P. A No matter how seemingly insignificant
, D8 |2 a7 X# k2 _/ K Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

% U/ N( O: X5 S. F And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
2 L. `+ Z) t3 O We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
3 K3 H# S1 Q' V5 z, @4 b" j; o because of that one pebble
2 T! o% I0 w( }* b The world will never be the same.

2 f1 e! g& o4 n8 P0 ~' v/ u And then we have heaven …

  j- O5 e/ M. ^1 I. z7 _& ?+ |) l* z Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03