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.

  e, V* s; g* c4 y. ?* | 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
' e; g: {* W! X' T. N0 V Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
# B$ }- n: K+ U) s6 \9 r3 V, {
4 o+ q6 G4 o5 I  Z The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
, d" n" I) o3 G, e2 w/ d1 | But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
3 T# c% r$ z* X! E' ~
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ `* ^! N' H1 A- m8 a( ^ Its signature of concentric ripples
# X# k* X& S  Q4 `& C( ]  v Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
: K# u% f% }0 v7 M$ i5 f Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
2 `3 u/ ]" N  ]0 _! H2 k( y
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
" q9 w. }8 Z/ S0 l' V/ w By unleashing its unimagined power?
- @' L5 H7 ^3 u Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
/ l- G! T  C! ^! S' Y/ K% b/ {! z) ] Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

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
  [( m6 [  S% X2 g1 P- E5 P) n7 N on a path into ourselves.

6 c2 n: T0 s5 [5 \, m' y It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
2 v. I9 i" p: i, R Into the pond of life
% |% P( e+ z( d9 V" p! ] Creating ripples
/ S- l4 Z* `8 `& y4 ~ that leave unique mark on our world
6 @% ^* k, X2 \% e' J, s Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

! |! L+ B( B2 M/ ^" M0 z; F Our life's prayers our answered
) d. y5 q2 l* y; S7 A Because even the smallest pebble
; B% @1 s" \+ _6 V3 E4 r( _" U% x No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
% Z' A0 i, A5 `% G  M" T) e We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

0 p( q0 z  R% ?* a And then we have heaven …
- @$ o( |0 X+ F+ F$ v
! F. z/ w  r/ ]4 Q( g( b Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03