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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+ F3 U5 e+ e0 K& O% d  n& x' \ 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
. H. {- H& w8 i+ j# p* S3 e A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
4 g# u) o  x! ?3 N/ D0 L! C5 H; P! W A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
+ T( D1 k) g8 l" F  o1 C$ e Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ O9 r% [! P, t& G1 U! `+ g% t, X$ v Its signature of concentric ripples
$ Q% Y* Y7 E% p7 [4 X7 r Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
, f; S& ~. R- f7 y4 k( y% Z/ d Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

! c3 ]9 x. ^" L8 f The pebble creates its worth and meaning
4 o9 b8 S. ]1 R/ ^# e: ?1 R* i: R By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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+ p2 e4 M  h* N$ x Aren't we all pebbles?
$ O  u9 d6 P; V$ j$ x) I) G Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
' _0 V: i/ ~: e- A2 z& p0 p4 V6 ~ That who we are meant to be
% w; F/ C; w3 E  F3 m Can never be measured in isolation
6 ?! S3 B" `. Y# G- E on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
! I! Y/ G* Y" u5 S4 s Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
! H: F) l# j" X" m7 i+ _ Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
1 _3 U8 o5 s) z" `' {2 Z5 h Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
! g# t: v/ R; ?% N- x+ _8 c But because of actions.
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/ V' u' c: @/ x$ W! ^ Our life's prayers our answered
3 q( k8 M0 F  Y# }; `; ?- K, y Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
& @, @% |  U6 M: \ Changes the course of the lives
0 D" L4 E0 n" N) A0 Y- L Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
1 B5 t$ S/ z# w% I; U3 ?& @ We will gently leave this life
' d8 N& x* V( | With the knowledge that
6 t( k$ \7 u% w( _" g because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

2 _$ m: p4 K1 A8 w+ ?3 R9 h And then we have heaven …
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& y# u  Z& z6 e- Y/ M Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03