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.
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! O+ g. o3 ~1 [: [ 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.

Heaven
/ T1 i' E( F2 M0 F, D; l The pebble is worn smooth
& o. \; T% }0 M& F% ~% q7 S$ I9 n Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
8 }8 ~, t' S& a6 V) _2 l4 I+ U An accidental offspring of a boulder
# ^& v+ z* E) {  b4 g9 u& q# i But just a very small stone.

2 n9 `" L5 o2 _$ J The pebble's place in our world
0 {+ [& d9 `% u! s8 @% [ Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
) T8 l0 ]( c: Q) H* d2 D Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
1 f, n" ~4 Q/ Y- ]+ w Its signature of concentric ripples
) ~# _3 c6 e" x  M3 N9 C0 `5 o Spiral outwards
: c& P& }$ j4 k% L4 h7 a Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
) s5 _7 W- A; _' E Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
0 h' U: p; `9 _# }1 D' n
) x7 F7 J. j8 K! ~) X6 | The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
  C: m$ f5 A3 L. v1 e+ o; _ Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
7 C  m& o. m/ |, T, v Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
% K9 O4 G9 Y6 e% M/ _6 v% W$ | Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
5 W! @3 |# o- n. B Can never be measured in isolation
! ?$ g8 m. r/ y6 h2 Q on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
. x8 I; t" r7 C/ a+ m& G0 ` Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( {# r/ `  `: P! Z7 ~  n Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
$ E* V; d- y7 h+ c$ P Not because of thoughts
2 J: |  J; ?& p! t. l, r5 v  R' x not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
2 K- _  o+ r  W
- U; T# K) |4 |% R: V% ?/ ~4 I Our life's prayers our answered
+ m$ j0 C4 @7 h: p, d Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
. w5 K$ r" N! O& m8 f6 q3 P9 @& T Changes the course of the lives
: @! q7 W& W: {$ [! i9 ` Of those we touch.?
8 x5 ]' U+ Q$ d3 B
; Z4 X4 [8 l6 B, x And when the icy winds of death
/ _1 s! s. U4 [ beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
7 ~8 j# _- I7 E4 n* q' h With the knowledge that
/ o5 e3 A0 G0 a; o5 a because of that one pebble
9 B# ~7 ]) H  [& x- i3 U The world will never be the same.

2 M2 ]7 U8 o9 C& I$ |: G# H% w And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03