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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: n0 B, B% n* {( R0 Z2 l% y 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
; F$ ^% K) f/ d% W) C" R The pebble is worn smooth
( x) A& u, }6 w+ W9 C3 ~" L Made small over time
% q, Z* Q1 e+ S' P A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: V/ H" N5 I% | A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

& A$ ~1 w4 O% v$ v1 u The pebble's place in our world
( X' c! k8 j0 o: b* Z3 K Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
* X. ]9 x: {: f! m" B8 V Its insignificance is transformed
4 a* Y! s7 b+ N) l) W) O) ?6 ^ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
* F! l/ _+ x. k2 i Its signature of concentric ripples
  @' l$ q/ ]9 {5 |  w( ]2 b. Q Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
4 s% I" d5 ~8 w6 `0 Y& p6 T0 L4 W Gently affecting everything in its wake
: S& P2 f7 R4 b Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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. s( F' H( O/ g, D) z- t3 o 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?
1 Q5 G3 |" k/ i& j6 b8 V  o0 i Feeling small and insignificant
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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/ w& n& }/ R# H0 c; P3 G6 x It is true then:
Our everlasting future
; Z& Y6 L( L# d+ ^5 `3 z Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
# G" \9 z& p3 F- K* x# P- J Not because of thoughts
* R& _8 e1 o% F# I6 c/ O5 V not because of well meaning plans
) f" K: l9 L: G. d$ e6 f! t& x But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
% O  s6 E2 @4 v& k# j' k Because even the smallest pebble
2 ?$ l" c) B6 f No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
* q1 H4 q4 |# V  J Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
9 b" c$ M6 `6 r" `1 W The world will never be the same.
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% M' d3 f9 |) K4 D' i And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03