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.

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
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
; G2 ^0 b5 N1 s- }. k A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
  ^  H) M, ~8 C A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
- r9 z# H; ]0 p- V# S7 S3 g An accidental offspring of a boulder
5 {! ^3 n' F1 n0 [* } But just a very small stone.
8 L1 Y% N/ Q  l5 R1 y/ ~
( k" \" ^, }  g8 u The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
) ]" Y# ?2 J: f. Z Its insignificance is transformed
# u/ z1 H4 f8 l8 r1 w Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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- X- V1 L* H% }( q) _5 h The instant the pebble kisses the pond
8 y: d! K: X# \! l! u3 Q2 q Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
* a) b" c1 T- O& ?. [, a Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

' L; g/ ]% c/ j2 U5 P9 d' H The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
% t* n0 @& x+ t* y, E8 ? Feeling small and insignificant
) B. @' l3 ]. } But ultimately recognizing
8 u% ^( }3 |" _9 D  Q. X That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
' J! T% ?5 ^" K0 ]: P, j on a path into ourselves.
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  y6 q  J5 Z8 B# o8 w It is true then:
Our everlasting future
  P& l4 J: }+ [6 r# v Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
* O/ c+ j6 z! J5 I+ W3 z4 K/ | Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
8 c' G) @( H" h: e! F) Y# j, x7 } But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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! ^9 t9 o. F) l8 o9 c1 r% _$ x% H3 C And when the icy winds of death
8 b1 e1 I! J3 O; c( w beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03