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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+ @* j9 d$ ~/ U 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.
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" e; K  a0 D+ z4 b: e Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
' a; A: D- I! d% \- K) ~/ \ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 _7 T- j2 |: N9 c* C An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

, i: E$ v% b7 p3 |/ {9 ]0 L/ ] The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
) \' N/ q1 G8 K1 K Its insignificance is transformed
; P) H) n- Y- j4 C2 v& t( m2 e# t Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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$ H( A* x$ k  U2 ^' ] The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
: _0 R# x: Y) T! W4 O Moving far beyond itself.
$ D- K0 s$ R/ ?4 K5 G% ] Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
5 Z6 b1 Q* J, }/ p By unleashing its unimagined power?
- y4 L9 A& L1 h Into a dueling force of action and reaction
) Q/ Q( t6 f5 X, q8 G Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
( h" N, f7 d( x& G Feeling small and insignificant
7 m* x; y& [# E: x9 c But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
+ N) v% h7 u' ]& @. C+ X4 F on a path into ourselves.
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& P; U. r# F" `# @* R It is true then:
Our everlasting future
& l  s9 R. m' Q" } Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
% E/ F' W; G" W6 y- L Creating ripples
5 p0 Y7 w# O, _2 m: }7 L! [ that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
8 _2 w  ^# d: h5 F6 W4 X0 P7 W- N not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
5 ?  [' r$ y/ | No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
: \# Z& Q3 D8 f; g Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
: q" d( k& e4 ?( _, T beckon our lasting attention
$ K# V# U- j2 x; o" m) J We will gently leave this life
$ v4 D, N' N  W2 O# Z# |7 }  @ 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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3 k5 `) w, \5 l3 J Ross Rosenberg
9 F1 n5 o3 `; p: q% H0 m 8/18/03