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.

7 ~" q4 C% a4 M' o* Y* j6 }5 g" v 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
5 N" f7 _" \* k- T/ ?! s The pebble is worn smooth
- O5 p& \; v- T( X Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
& B, x, C  f7 P$ q  x# I% D A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
6 X: W& ^. Y0 {& R8 T$ P! n) t An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

! @1 x. V: [( b' } The pebble's place in our world
) `0 e$ l' Q% y- W Is neither understood nor appreciated
  P: g+ z, G7 X' V7 n! I/ h. u: y But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
: Y+ B' N! O/ j Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
0 {! p6 d$ ]( `4 h8 G Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
) J, {4 u# f7 E0 i- v
- O" B3 ?$ q( L* H& h The pebble creates its worth and meaning
6 b  X0 {, O4 a- F& a, V* g" {+ l By unleashing its unimagined power?
  V1 V- F4 d9 F4 \- a- K Into a dueling force of action and reaction
2 H0 F; {7 o. G6 @1 V Creating karmic energy
: V8 g, |. ?1 \$ r: M1 c, l1 F Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

# B' H2 S- ]1 J$ O  `( N Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
2 A0 o6 g! @2 l4 e7 f) H4 ` That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
! l: V7 }0 K; Z& q7 o3 Q
It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
% a" Y! n% J) w! E6 k9 u Into the pond of life
- T) d2 l5 d  _, z# X  M Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
, @' A8 d7 ~! m2 x Not because of thoughts
0 z/ p% T. u2 G) E not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
" E* a( M- P5 r. \% _
Our life's prayers our answered
) q' e  h* b: y' C Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
- h: [, G3 L( l1 A' @ Changes the course of the lives
$ z9 s. G* E( o Of those we touch.?

. }0 q$ z. `+ }7 {5 s( L9 I And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
# v$ A' D( R5 p1 Q9 _ We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
8 H7 ], Y) r* @# I; \; o The world will never be the same.
1 A0 g6 p' i# i' `$ z
And then we have heaven …

' i9 O6 i7 h6 y' V9 V" F Ross Rosenberg
' ^; s) v3 e$ q 8/18/03