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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* B% U% i- I  R5 Q 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
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 p* d: |2 E: c+ D( b3 |6 A+ k5 J A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
& v+ R; D. W8 P# c1 R( m An accidental offspring of a boulder
' n! o3 Y  R) r3 K8 E* c But just a very small stone.
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) n4 P% u3 F* O! G) d/ W The pebble's place in our world
# M9 o; M1 U6 T' f0 M Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
9 z; Y" [% |- _% l2 [" } Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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# D( G; c  O3 @5 R& ~# g. H The instant the pebble kisses the pond
* l6 H  Y  I1 u Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
+ {1 ^2 [+ x: _: b  G' F0 q- M4 r Moving far beyond itself.
8 @& H5 L, S2 f1 L' S Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
# P* }8 m3 j. o7 L: { By unleashing its unimagined power?
) U7 z! `; ]! }# ?$ T) l. w Into a dueling force of action and reaction
# R6 \3 W* I) i. l Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
7 W' T) w; O& ~5 D2 Z4 N Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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$ D; @! D, i: m" {5 [- A It is true then:
8 x( [# B) B6 y8 j  T8 M1 i% L3 F Our everlasting future
4 C: j+ K, ^% P% z! X. z( p# w Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
* H- Y/ z% H1 a7 L/ c) W not because of well meaning plans
# z( J2 E5 g6 b* @, I But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
5 y2 ^0 b( S( G4 _! N Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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) a: _( p5 Y; T& q5 Z5 X8 R' q+ Q# q And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
4 @6 U. ?4 V* E/ x. A/ s; I1 D1 P/ k We will gently leave this life
' r; g; H+ N! Q2 r With the knowledge that
# D; D& R# u, W3 b! \/ _ because of that one pebble
7 F" Q6 Y' ^) j( x The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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5 o% n2 e  Q4 m5 l+ _/ x Ross Rosenberg
# R. ]" R) T7 G& l 8/18/03