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.

Heaven
" v2 v- E$ Z* v0 D2 V7 m" ?3 y. } The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
0 H5 m; g" A2 X3 R4 [# R( J2 R A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
* e" ~8 k9 f$ H+ q6 k' n+ w  k/ _ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
# Y% f0 t# i! x1 X) @; D An accidental offspring of a boulder
1 H# P! `3 _# i/ R7 A: b But just a very small stone.
1 [7 O* T8 C. U  N" K; a
; q) G2 r( R1 z' I7 z" H) O The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
) e/ |# Z5 _# ? Its insignificance is transformed
6 w( t+ z. V: k+ a Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
& D' J0 Q( C/ U: L: P3 B Spiral outwards
* ?; I- [- R8 L9 ~ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
9 v% l. H/ U( O) X6 L% \4 f Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

8 w  g' _1 J7 v+ X5 e2 e( @ The pebble creates its worth and meaning
8 Q' m" M/ v0 T" z% V1 ~! a By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
/ A7 W) P; J$ l Creating karmic energy
( X. \* p  _% ] Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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3 _* s, ~; Y) F Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
9 u( j$ |* Q, J# o Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

8 T/ h- V. l$ [  j It is true then:
. v* L; N2 p; I# n$ X Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
8 b4 s$ E5 o1 W" t4 ~" | Creating ripples
3 G* ]+ n8 l, c! j& S" j6 A: L that leave unique mark on our world
' |& I( S- R1 D+ { Not because of thoughts
( l; W) o+ C) j/ K" r- | not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

) l- k& l# t4 S5 a' H* p4 D Our life's prayers our answered
$ t' X& N; g6 c* a Because even the smallest pebble
* k9 _9 @4 _, w1 w# V; a) y: n No matter how seemingly insignificant
' w; G1 V, P; K Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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2 K2 f5 \( \/ A) C3 b' n And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
5 ~8 x1 p7 A6 E; _% f% D8 o& f We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
, k) }4 T& N  a2 _( E4 _; z7 x The world will never be the same.

% r; p2 A  P* O& Z3 t; f4 a And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
! n& i; b! z+ d' C; F 8/18/03