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.
8 l6 [+ a5 p  @! h; q% h- e
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.

4 G" C, t& f, h2 ` Heaven
7 }: J/ k$ ?, _- H  c) p5 ]1 N The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
6 K! C& t# U7 {* S: W& ~ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

* s! |" q+ G( \1 I' N The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! Z$ c7 _* O! o6 m Its insignificance is transformed
8 d4 l1 n; L4 p1 X9 v Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
$ ?! D( p5 m# h3 h  ~8 T Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
" A# g# X8 _0 H' }( _- R Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

: J2 A0 w' m( I2 a7 e* |2 w The pebble creates its worth and meaning
8 g: B9 }) N/ {3 e By unleashing its unimagined power?
5 K, F4 x4 H: k6 R Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
' l! z# H/ D7 I5 r Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
$ J2 f- U* f5 C" G
% F  {5 _4 ^0 ~' a/ Q Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
: l- K2 u' f5 v0 l% w That who we are meant to be
+ k7 S4 G! f  A# g* t, P/ Z  ^ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
# u5 X1 h# h: _% z) R3 X
5 p) a7 z  _9 @6 m$ k5 a& Z It is true then:
* v- Y5 p# i# \ Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
  [/ c9 U3 V# W. j Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
. \& X& a" t1 {4 @, L" N/ G1 J: E$ v Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

$ o' K. U) ?, ~4 Y/ V  E& i! e Our life's prayers our answered
9 Y+ W6 L  _7 d" F$ l* a9 D Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
- W' Q2 U3 a. c5 q( F5 Z5 d: ` Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
+ x+ J# b- @/ M' n+ i# @ beckon our lasting attention
2 {3 h; ?" z0 H8 G/ U0 i" H+ c% i We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
; P, m% V/ J5 o, D' V) G7 I The world will never be the same.
" |. ]: w3 }5 V$ z
$ n! }& `" A% f8 j1 M7 X$ r1 B And then we have heaven …

" y; z3 G, s- X! d; G6 _) T9 A4 C Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03