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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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
$ ?9 z3 r" {1 i, I4 v9 m% }$ y+ U5 Z Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 M" Q1 q' e' p A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, @7 y3 e- x5 T% J  G8 b7 d An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

: Y7 r  {- ^8 S! w0 u The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
5 i6 w& i; G+ q4 u1 a9 m/ P Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

- w3 d6 _* x" h! b- f' V The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
" \' A, n7 R3 b# W5 } Spiral outwards
2 |3 q3 L; x6 U9 C. i Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

  M" o0 T5 J/ Q$ J+ y+ C% X The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
  h5 e- H) ?- f* z; J4 u Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
* t5 I! ?$ c, k4 c- N$ L( X9 B But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
4 O- G7 u) A0 p. h2 } Can never be measured in isolation
0 ^! i% U  \4 t$ j on a path into ourselves.
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1 N' |" B- v/ o2 ?) J/ s3 a It is true then:
( n/ {# O* ?' U! y. W1 p, ~ Our everlasting future
7 w7 P$ q- d& m* G* J/ Q Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
1 _4 Z; C  S+ b; n  m: _ Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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$ b9 k) E" I  u9 U, M8 O- U Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
% U2 k# l' U' N* @7 Y7 l  S  i No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
8 `+ u& C' R% n, o$ ^ beckon our lasting attention
6 ], k6 U$ s& v0 B We will gently leave this life
' _" p+ J8 x# ~5 h2 U2 u. T With the knowledge that
! M) ~) C+ [& O because of that one pebble
3 ?% n# r1 K( S3 T8 G2 x The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03