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.
' n. G5 t7 |8 y8 r0 h/ P2 ?0 T
- L5 ]: b' E( j5 _: t% W9 p8 H 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
The pebble is worn smooth
( H( B! S# M) c' H) Y' G( { 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
But just a very small stone.

: s! T8 b1 P* t7 m8 y The pebble's place in our world
7 e8 Z1 l, M, B+ {' O& O7 W Is neither understood nor appreciated
$ b$ V( V# Z7 B But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
  s2 n& H: H" C6 C Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
: F+ M. M8 N  z) P- S Spiral outwards
' Z% _# }6 v; w- r& a Moving far beyond itself.
- P/ C! e2 p+ `7 v- Y: t Gently affecting everything in its wake
( I2 l: ^/ K( z* t8 M Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
  T6 a/ t8 w/ I: a- _' @8 [ Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

( o# C! J; `- U3 N8 ~4 Y Aren't we all pebbles?
$ F* d1 B% f, q3 c8 h' H  Y2 ? Feeling small and insignificant
* k" k6 W2 W6 u But ultimately recognizing
8 f  [# T7 S1 v; `) i- ^* D3 ^ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
0 C9 y+ d( r9 x Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
9 g0 ^5 @# j: C" |  K. s Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
- U- `0 n1 X( m' k7 h3 i that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
3 N/ A% M/ p  E$ }; U  l
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
, A5 @$ M6 `# P  @. d2 a+ N Changes the course of the lives
- s4 G  @+ @7 W" _1 z, g* G5 k Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
' l! w" Y8 F) F) o beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
+ k/ U, i6 P. S7 }' _1 K With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
$ A; Z; E: t1 i; i
! H0 n+ F; J" i: p: d; k And then we have heaven …
5 l: M3 m& P7 T6 c3 J: H! G+ H
1 E" k" u/ `- Z9 U Ross Rosenberg
0 Z- A2 L+ E, G8 ?$ c/ Q 8/18/03