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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' j( M  E6 k* T3 s( ^: M1 l  S 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.

' }" x# b2 c% ^ Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
1 u# ]; m5 M: J A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
) C# Q7 X3 c- u9 e2 e2 d An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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; r# M; b+ z; W% N1 Q5 N6 r The pebble's place in our world
! x. \3 z; h1 A Is neither understood nor appreciated
4 B' H; l9 a0 J+ G- [0 L9 M1 F But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
2 t2 M6 {; A$ V8 ? Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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/ j8 P- z; C# N3 @& u7 [% m- G/ ~7 b The instant the pebble kisses the pond
2 h9 s! P: I; F  L5 N' u( s Its signature of concentric ripples
+ R! w7 C. l  K$ F" t. H) y# M6 l Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

  o. Z* n8 B5 |- ]/ X: h; A; i The pebble creates its worth and meaning
# I  m9 R" Q0 V) L) o By unleashing its unimagined power?
& |- {- e; A: n/ l  B Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
2 T2 e0 H0 h! z# N3 K Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

, O) U2 b  @0 F4 f2 M Aren't we all pebbles?
7 }8 Z/ Z2 L# F- }+ M; d& ?" L1 y Feeling small and insignificant
2 j+ o- n2 w( W% p But ultimately recognizing
  q9 |2 C2 L9 U3 I2 E% V That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
# @! `  A% G) U" D/ c; u on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
# ~) G6 _* l' J3 G  f) F Into the pond of life
6 |8 S  Z2 ~/ |" M, Z1 p0 G Creating ripples
, Y2 O  {7 \! C  G0 y that leave unique mark on our world
" M7 C* z1 h* q" T# p3 j% f0 Y Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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9 e5 @! H- k7 ^0 E1 h" c* B Our life's prayers our answered
3 d  I9 B. S5 }% f; o+ R Because even the smallest pebble
, ^$ N( `6 n+ B* d( ]( H No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

9 D- y) @' I% B4 A! p  t6 j And when the icy winds of death
* z! w) B, u* N9 v6 Z2 L beckon our lasting attention
$ O5 R; W0 a% }' F We will gently leave this life
' j( g0 {# l1 f& T& W0 C With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
; I( B2 F8 q' j0 v2 w The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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' V9 B" u) g* a4 T& {- [5 N Ross Rosenberg
- m3 a/ X5 m  H! i% @- O/ d# m6 k 8/18/03