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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# U0 B2 E2 @+ }% r, l2 l* P 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
! d3 A" E% [6 T5 Q/ m% G0 ?# ^/ q" m# }; L The pebble is worn smooth
2 O6 x  x8 n/ j0 ` Made small over time
9 V+ G' J! K$ [) F5 g' N A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
2 K3 ^" t. a# F# Y4 ^* e( Y, m3 T A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
: m3 |( \/ i9 ~! T& X: \) v An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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0 R: u3 I* ?/ B: }8 f, e1 }8 J0 u The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
$ C; J0 [3 U$ ~+ h4 f& F! F9 Y' d Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
2 l8 Y  }, H* S# F Moving far beyond itself.
4 W3 ], g- i: P/ W/ z1 c" _- A0 Y9 J Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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- T0 E5 q+ K$ w" c" G The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
6 [! ^/ \$ Z( _1 n, n; P; r Into a dueling force of action and reaction
) Q/ N- q# M! Q' T- _$ D8 a Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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% q$ u9 U: n* p Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
2 g+ Y* v# d* t+ Q: z! N5 C/ s: a But ultimately recognizing
; b+ L$ B& g0 ^! s# Y% [ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
2 O  Q$ {7 i3 K6 h$ D on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
1 V, b, ?+ q! I Our everlasting future
* e  e, N) t2 \0 q Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
0 R& K3 w: [- a7 |7 i, f6 V Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
1 v5 j2 e" V4 L2 ~( N4 E# E) ~ Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
; J" Q" {( m- y! _* S4 |  u6 y But because of actions.

: t( ?# i& G, A5 U1 h6 @- i Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
2 R  Y" i/ @# s7 l* m3 M9 c No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
4 S8 r- J- j$ `; O* P* U We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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3 l/ c9 N; ~  A. h6 q+ B Ross Rosenberg
8 \( S! ?: F+ S* X0 {( X 8/18/03