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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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.

( O5 w& D8 K8 p& C3 D9 o9 u8 S Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
3 A: S; ]6 P4 B9 L- B% w& Y" d7 \ Made small over time
1 }- T" T9 I/ B) b, m0 I# j A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
( [6 F6 k( }" F6 b  [: C( d A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 a% a" `. L9 x, d An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
( d) ~/ v& i8 C+ d' L& ^' W/ ^ Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
) \: l* |  G0 U7 n+ {+ j2 C Its signature of concentric ripples
! K2 G" n, `6 I/ I) f7 w Spiral outwards
2 j( Q- V3 p$ t" L Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
  U* s5 i. R: p9 Z1 ~ Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
. G8 Q9 x" v' L7 r0 S By unleashing its unimagined power?
* s* Z6 I9 A) j- I% D7 Z, h' n Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
! g6 w. J' f; n5 D That who we are meant to be
- L6 x" q9 n* T. C- ]6 O Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
- s9 I5 s( k# @$ b0 a! g5 P* u/ R Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( l; o$ m; H7 P& }+ h& M" p9 p3 G Into the pond of life
3 f- k% H. j8 p2 t2 O6 K* ~) } Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
# ?& @' R6 r: U7 J3 K Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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% g3 N$ H9 R& ^# ]/ ^8 k Our life's prayers our answered
, y- U! x+ V: S# `' \9 J+ N Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
- W5 R5 m8 @+ B$ C) |! j# v4 V Of those we touch.?

. P+ z4 U& C, B And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
3 [, l3 D$ D) I6 D6 e- _3 `" p With the knowledge that
! u8 S/ N! _+ g- L2 ^ because of that one pebble
: D  [- v  r1 Z" V7 n2 F( O2 y The world will never be the same.
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! y! R8 f) u) Q& {( x And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03