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.

+ r4 g2 n# b+ e4 Q/ t, T" n9 b, R( q Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
$ U- i6 V' `1 g3 g! ^ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
$ o  t6 i. R% E4 e+ b But just a very small stone.
& ~/ H' E' [% p& h
: B3 q+ p( D8 J The pebble's place in our world
+ ^9 q# [6 v: }- b, U Is neither understood nor appreciated
2 [. @, i- T9 Q8 ~, b! r But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' k' d% d: @4 V* @ Its insignificance is transformed
$ {0 U" ^9 H) f5 w7 K+ I Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
+ C5 x. c0 o( a0 k
! N$ M" V8 h$ j* T The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
2 D# y- Z# q) G% ]: Q" V4 P Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
2 }+ ~; m2 F9 p Gently affecting everything in its wake
! C( A: {- Q9 y2 l8 v Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

% Z8 J# [6 W( S, r* D( j The pebble creates its worth and meaning
" d# `/ M" L' [" s$ j, _$ D" \: i By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
  V. P" }- C- o% R% r4 ?+ Y Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

5 D  I$ ^, L- O& I Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
; n  z8 F) I  v7 P But ultimately recognizing
4 y* a) Y' K" i/ A; H, O That who we are meant to be
* E& K: g& N, F2 E Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

: V  V* q* n% n, M- y8 F It is true then:
Our everlasting future
7 R; m# K/ Q' h; r$ ?% m- J6 e Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
$ _9 k$ o0 p0 H: {3 ^8 d0 p0 _, w Into the pond of life
# J( |) K+ n7 S( k% R: s Creating ripples
3 ?) t$ `! i7 o6 c0 e that leave unique mark on our world
: r% u2 J. U, `8 h: W/ ~  b9 p Not because of thoughts
- S2 O# r3 s1 p7 v0 G6 n. O5 e not because of well meaning plans
8 v( d* @* n' ?* H0 T9 J But because of actions.

) z7 m, ~5 l# T Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
) X5 }  K9 h! }% _ Changes the course of the lives
3 O* T2 ]* q/ ~. d, {$ u- l/ x Of those we touch.?

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
+ [/ y3 C8 ]' W. l$ W' Q5 g/ v The world will never be the same.
. y, X8 e) J; E* ?! t- x
/ j* a# t  Q# a1 D And then we have heaven …

! T, a3 h# C; i2 {: ? Ross Rosenberg
8 ?4 l- V1 ]& I/ m; k/ Q; c 8/18/03