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.
, F+ c) s* P# e/ _6 H# S6 h
Heaven
4 t  J( ]! S7 k2 F7 A, }  w The pebble is worn smooth
2 z0 @& D  P; N' @& g Made small over time
, T2 n0 G! V6 M3 M, u A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
' T) p3 M# |( x  a9 N' K% s7 F A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

; c+ b% z) g8 h! }: S- Q7 C) ~: G The pebble's place in our world
$ l- d4 s. J( q( K3 K% _ Is neither understood nor appreciated
: ]# {9 O+ q* [ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
: ?* ]* V% ~7 t+ @ Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
$ j1 r  r2 ?$ {) I7 S0 u Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
- q8 H- b( Y* x" c3 Y5 J- ] Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
8 S4 p5 r: F( B# W7 [# B By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
' V! P* ~5 W+ i, ?% q/ D" x Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
4 Z9 r% I; Q9 o7 Q6 _. ^. B( k
' a8 b! R6 p/ p& C# q- q3 M! m4 W Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
! N, c, u; R" J+ T5 j: |; a But ultimately recognizing
/ B  X* K6 y, u( u$ q" e8 _ That who we are meant to be
" h; l2 \8 j  M Can never be measured in isolation
/ ~+ _7 a' W0 W on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
" s+ r2 _, c) @6 ^8 m Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. h4 [0 L+ n4 @2 }0 h Into the pond of life
& W% b7 E! A! I& h7 k, M Creating ripples
5 v5 }0 F" X9 ~2 p/ |  ^ that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
; |3 }8 k, @( L7 b  ? But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
9 ?. x  L; E# J; o6 v4 ]( h3 [3 a/ g, { Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
/ K- x8 ~' s9 K& V5 Y& b Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
/ w, F6 K2 ]+ ^ The world will never be the same.
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3 ^9 o8 ~: V0 v" i And then we have heaven …

! w. C  H% V' k) M6 V Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03