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, M$ K* R9 M/ q: V" R+ Z$ ~ 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
Made small over time
. K3 n1 _- y. E6 a" Q' x0 M) Q5 _ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
3 I3 f  d, t4 D2 I( S A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, l# Q: J9 C2 w1 F( y$ K2 n! j An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
. w4 G$ k# e" G1 o/ z3 Z
7 t# L6 n) s" \- \) x4 w6 u The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
4 K4 a. ?& k5 g" a# Q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
9 ]' M$ G2 K3 r# ~9 ?& V Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
( O$ X. s9 h  j' N5 i+ h9 G
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
+ C9 `# X! c1 e6 @& d Spiral outwards
& v7 R$ S9 m- g' ? Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
, c8 y( O$ b( X9 Y Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
/ Z% r, b% w  l" ^
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
. H& k% p, g" m- F; v, @% v By unleashing its unimagined power?
  n# x+ m5 J  \2 B4 w" B9 d Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
; V, p* U6 @5 @* R4 V  ^ Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

& q+ o/ T# I  S6 @/ l7 P Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

, F9 x4 N' i" Z9 E- M" H* w1 i It is true then:
. g: |% C: B6 t  y) }$ T+ f Our everlasting future
( a7 e- Y* U& N1 d6 V Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
% e* C) ~/ F8 _7 }4 H3 M2 }. \' l Creating ripples
# f9 j% @6 v* G  l0 Q that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

" n. A& m* j; y Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
; \, _! ^5 r3 A% \: [7 W! n No matter how seemingly insignificant
0 N/ U4 N4 j" I3 P* a Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

9 H6 X# S$ t. F And when the icy winds of death
# X+ A5 x0 Z6 @, ~  K beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
  s1 }' c( G! i! ^6 x" L/ R The world will never be the same.

% p9 T- k, A7 p And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
0 ~$ |  a# T: T4 N% `# ]2 r 8/18/03