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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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
+ ^. g- `2 w8 h! _( y0 C The pebble is worn smooth
9 H& S' U& p( t2 f, J Made small over time
+ G1 j$ L3 S  E  B" f( j A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
+ ~( Q+ ]4 t( E" c5 ~( D- g( S0 X A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

7 l$ Y2 a& K0 E$ ` The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
( ^: p, {& O. e( Y But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
6 i- T5 `. @0 F" s1 p9 s3 ]7 j Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ ?6 w8 U4 [6 N  w, E6 V Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
6 }& Z! Y8 m: U+ F7 H3 n& q9 K Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
& u& M) R; }: @7 Z Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
8 B% [5 A  E8 P. h Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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$ s6 B& P. Z/ d3 U Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
. m7 ?6 F7 @* p: W But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
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; q; }* Z. K' m& `0 R Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
, D' ]4 Z& e5 o9 F' e9 H# z But because of actions.
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* A+ S+ l" M+ S: b( _" r# D! c Our life's prayers our answered
: X6 ~$ t, n( E( }8 i Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

4 L' q7 o1 e4 G5 C And when the icy winds of death
6 o% D' O$ a- {3 V7 K- x% S/ G; z beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
' R6 \9 w/ Q, k With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
" m  O; t8 |2 H The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

: G7 l4 x( o% s2 \* L5 t Ross Rosenberg
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