Heaven

khfacdgku

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.

% C" N) B: ^5 O  q$ `0 Y 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.

2 |6 i" M' B0 g" u Heaven
: P/ Y6 W( d4 g! U' @ The pebble is worn smooth
5 C- F* X  K2 j* B5 F% v# @( c: i 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
* G9 r0 K* Y' @) F1 ^5 \9 ^ But just a very small stone.

; |9 q3 L$ b8 M$ A; O1 o0 T9 v The pebble's place in our world
" A! @  V; G# ~" t7 ^7 V Is neither understood nor appreciated
+ A7 H7 A2 M* T! Z2 A! J But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
( x- e7 Z& ~/ \$ Q2 R' i
+ k0 H6 D9 D& {$ b The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
! N7 m6 N( D1 Y0 I& X9 s Spiral outwards
8 r6 l6 |% a$ w Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
/ l) a# e( j+ b; C6 Y, r8 l Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

4 E; s' D5 }# C/ u  c' w The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( _6 X4 Y1 b$ N* \+ @ By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
7 N4 `* P! z; s5 a, P Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
: b) j6 E& m" Z! T Feeling small and insignificant
# ^% _2 h. \" i- |1 v* a6 @4 m But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
# h+ ?7 `. T, S; x2 a6 m8 t Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

/ M, @9 [5 U0 L1 v! W6 z4 M It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
1 B" C) D! H2 y: t; ?. {& p Into the pond of life
: N$ a9 C- `* H9 {6 g; Z& i. ?3 ? Creating ripples
) s% u$ @) D: {  S7 Z6 \" g1 b that leave unique mark on our world
: \( w0 Q" a% B" K3 K' y  z Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
3 a# y7 z- |* b. H
- {2 c" h5 J  ^ Our life's prayers our answered
& [1 q: T( y- L- P& A) t Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
1 O& r$ x* }' F& H3 \. s7 Q7 g Of those we touch.?

7 V5 W' u; ~0 O# p  ]; \" @) F And when the icy winds of death
; X; G0 L" K) s beckon our lasting attention
5 h9 ]- g9 p7 y# z6 P) H We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
' L5 k& k* v2 n# T% ~
And then we have heaven …
& \: |* U& F! D- P# ]( Q/ v0 i
5 ]& K" Z9 Y$ d  s6 Z9 ]- t' T Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03