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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( ]/ z( k- ~# Z 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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Heaven
  ^& e' X6 Q* S5 P. o$ F The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
4 V) X2 w' d& l8 r/ z1 f A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
' {1 j& Y; ?$ W/ N" |3 i4 y! Y& O$ _ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
- ~4 B$ g' x( M% _& d5 P+ N An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
- Z) ^2 i6 B# ?( e But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
3 J$ i( K; m6 u+ l Its insignificance is transformed
3 t3 D- U6 @$ W  |& s4 `3 l+ f& F Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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& M' p" R1 @6 F$ F The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
7 F* c: ~# }! @7 f( N; G- p- F Moving far beyond itself.
- `& k' p8 a7 f2 e! m: v2 s Gently affecting everything in its wake
  c* _: c) l. A3 P& L, D+ i Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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  ^, h! M- G' D# W The pebble creates its worth and meaning
! N4 r  V! e" f+ u$ {& W By unleashing its unimagined power?
" o6 g8 ?5 S/ U5 D( i Into a dueling force of action and reaction
( q3 Q8 T4 R" ]* w, O Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
# r  ?5 M7 c+ p  d$ q Feeling small and insignificant
7 Z6 C  T0 L) {" P9 a But ultimately recognizing
6 H& |! {6 P% _3 x% D That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
/ V/ x+ m' c- t" \' N on a path into ourselves.

. E7 o, b4 u" C It is true then:
0 {4 L( {7 h3 o0 M Our everlasting future
. D) O" Z( ~( L6 Z) Y Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
: {+ E' t9 t: a1 | Into the pond of life
% Z, Z1 W! y+ f0 y4 x' J- g Creating ripples
4 M4 ?; s" t  M9 P- D- k; f" {: V: [ that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
  F: P# M* Z. A0 ^ Because even the smallest pebble
& w5 `3 ]# ?2 Y; ] No matter how seemingly insignificant
" c* i) d: J5 T# ^2 p Changes the course of the lives
/ E( E# G) P' U5 [( t8 L* P Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
3 B' P! T# m$ N With the knowledge that
  C' @- R! H& {7 k3 W( y because of that one pebble
/ P5 x4 H; I2 I1 E9 D The world will never be the same.

) Y+ N+ A& P# a, P$ Y And then we have heaven …

* D  M) Z& @& r; v& _ Ross Rosenberg
* l6 a6 g1 r7 I/ \0 Z 8/18/03