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.

Heaven
( w3 w8 C- k: F' H The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 O, j6 l, ^# X A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

- P+ |) y* c3 r5 C0 j0 U/ \$ O The pebble's place in our world
# w" h* _# @# z Is neither understood nor appreciated
/ g9 Z6 U% n% U& Q" P7 o) P But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
% g5 w0 s# b1 A  ]2 K Its insignificance is transformed
4 W; K* ]( V' o% s Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

0 }. [5 Z2 U+ d2 y- H The instant the pebble kisses the pond
$ c: {% b/ l% t1 I9 {; Y# B1 [ Its signature of concentric ripples
5 ~% x9 L/ G7 E9 L4 k* b Spiral outwards
- H8 a) D3 E+ T- @+ T$ |1 P4 N6 A Moving far beyond itself.
7 Q$ h3 a2 ?) t2 W! F. v  g Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
6 R& e4 A  R0 G  p& D: v
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
+ o! X% O( g$ e* H$ ~5 E) x By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 v! |! a8 D) f9 F9 y" p Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
& ^1 z& J; c8 C. E Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
% m3 z9 x* y; Z  R$ p' ^  T
Aren't we all pebbles?
% U. k: a1 j! }2 M9 p Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
  s4 M5 \6 Y5 x) J4 H) ?* Z) @  y( p. c That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
' d7 @3 P  e  t& ^ on a path into ourselves.
8 ]; v! i6 o4 I* G
It is true then:
* O- ~9 o/ O7 Y* \6 ^5 o Our everlasting future
! ?7 q- ^/ @7 i% h# _* u9 L Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
+ q+ [* f+ T+ W* s8 d7 ? Into the pond of life
5 U! @( J3 k. j/ K& _+ t Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
( E7 h0 y/ R) N5 }5 y/ s; r But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
. h. S1 L) `& W8 `1 `0 U Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
. n, m; y/ {7 W Changes the course of the lives
4 U& k! I) `! d6 a- f Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
  N2 P7 f1 V1 v' S7 F& D5 b We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
; M0 P# t. U% S& Y8 A The world will never be the same.
6 g# v' D) a: c1 v, M! v
6 x- c4 i( u3 b& E, ?' |0 z) O* l And then we have heaven …
7 C; v6 L; O) S
" v& \. I+ }- Y7 Z2 a$ Q- m& P. O Ross Rosenberg
0 D% N& B+ Z. O5 r 8/18/03