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.
2 k+ S' ?7 `" b/ h2 b
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.

! x2 M3 `4 S! D2 L6 C  T8 J Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
+ A* a, H$ F' b Made small over time
5 S% `, H; `& ^+ G A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: M; |& {' q8 G7 K9 V% V, x: T+ X! ` A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
1 w5 D8 W7 D: i$ S An accidental offspring of a boulder
; |' X0 f- r6 _' r But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
* X/ P) Z+ U: y0 _ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
5 z2 S- I1 h0 G; } Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
' p# y) g% k! U$ E) Z- w
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
1 G) U* Y2 |; a4 _7 Y Its signature of concentric ripples
& `8 c4 ]9 r$ L3 w# ^+ u Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
" }4 O2 L# @& o- Q Gently affecting everything in its wake
' ~( r" j# S* O: t+ H Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
: J9 d) {, _, E$ m) b1 U: f By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 e0 p: Y) U0 D/ Z' ` Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
0 J6 ^7 q$ l" N* M Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
' ^5 f9 e4 B0 M9 @# O That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

/ }5 G; q2 C- U! N6 B$ U; A It is true then:
; s& S  o9 A1 ]+ [" | Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
2 A3 ^3 y# j; G7 k4 j% c Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

8 L$ v6 @4 H* }% N' s; }; [ Our life's prayers our answered
  x; I* m, l( \( c) W Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
5 c- y  O" _- E1 n9 Y( j, C Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
8 R9 I+ N" {1 ~& Z/ A3 s beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
: j2 j$ |/ {5 ?: l5 M  i because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

) p: O1 V1 L7 c" g( ^! { Ross Rosenberg
" p1 l- k$ Y" Z& Q" S2 R 8/18/03