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.

( E2 W( ^# ?6 d& o% E- z Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
5 o6 g7 Z( w/ H% W7 Q- u5 ^ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
) W7 u/ j8 ~1 b# {2 k A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
# u4 `/ F/ v5 n' R/ H But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
' h! z4 {# p1 B# _9 |- A3 N7 q  ], f% Y But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

: C3 [, p. C! F8 j The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
' p! z3 o: u$ y- j# U% O0 n Spiral outwards
4 a/ C0 A4 D* O$ i* a Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
) T3 Z9 K9 i/ h9 W% J- } Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
/ o0 Z; N& [, q$ h4 |/ e Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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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
/ c: d$ w  P' M3 C/ r% N0 ^3 } on a path into ourselves.

9 o) h' a: c6 f6 i& F; j- f+ P4 w5 V It is true then:
1 s* P- D0 b2 K$ J8 }$ q' h Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
# Q/ H$ i, L7 p) }( C Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
1 s3 k: Q9 Q5 N6 m  ? that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
0 J+ l0 F% p$ T/ }4 P not because of well meaning plans
" Z7 j1 D. u  |4 W; z# I) m4 i- L But because of actions.
1 Z5 {; q* Q5 X" Q% R6 |+ @. q
Our life's prayers our answered
! P' j2 C* p. L  h1 n) h Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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" z/ R. G# {* v" H6 j& T2 l1 b And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
- M( i4 t$ q7 u) k: O) u# G We will gently leave this life
" f5 g0 o2 ?, S- w5 Q With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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  E; l& F  M5 T, y, h  e" @* ~ Ross Rosenberg
' w& v; Q4 o& a9 ^* v7 t 8/18/03