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.

$ V; K/ [$ ?7 p% B2 ~6 Q4 s, C6 o Heaven
6 H, V5 z# y8 u; R0 f The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
$ ^" H0 Y& j+ F; m% Z9 p( U A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
9 R$ Q" s1 I# `& n' r A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 H3 ]$ y" K" i An accidental offspring of a boulder
& e. e$ t) L- @3 M/ E- T$ C But just a very small stone.
1 x3 a* V  S9 E% ]8 ]
The pebble's place in our world
$ B1 Y% S. V$ I. W+ ]! Y. I Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
" m, e' r& {  Z- _! j6 w+ a. H Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
, R1 [3 ^6 k, l7 O& Q% L4 @
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
6 E5 g/ z" K+ W0 W+ l* B Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
8 Y$ ^4 }* B' l! k
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
& H( s( C5 U! K( p# j By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
( H9 q* y$ \/ d& e! `  H
* U1 n& C0 [! ~) g8 x. g7 P4 {- f8 ~ Aren't we all pebbles?
) }& H+ Z5 f! Z+ f Feeling small and insignificant
- G  m8 R% a' Y9 ^8 K& @, Q But ultimately recognizing
9 ~5 x! u9 ^: I That who we are meant to be
* f+ Q: ~/ U- _% } Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
8 J" ?% E& t8 j) ~
It is true then:
+ x) h% \+ y# \. O3 L+ I Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
4 i5 ~1 v. N0 f, p7 j$ o, m# y, U Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
$ Y! g9 \) F& n6 l: O* z# Y! d; [ Because even the smallest pebble
' y3 [) N$ c' c. `* ? No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
8 L& }- _0 H1 \ beckon our lasting attention
  w) L5 d) @" o1 y0 n# {4 f: F We will gently leave this life
1 G, p6 Y+ j) W1 e) D$ j With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
' ?2 ^) G: c( V3 j  o9 J The world will never be the same.
. \( P1 c2 [! h$ m) z. d& E" u
( y- G' n+ g2 R: ^9 \; I& z And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
4 }. n; d/ y" D% N* C  W5 n3 L 8/18/03