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
* \0 m9 R9 ^1 P3 O, ?) e The pebble is worn smooth
, {1 I# g9 Y6 m  s# M: ~9 g# ? Made small over time
7 p. D. H+ j) _* j& h) U# A# E& h, c A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
6 D. g3 E+ p5 \* N4 \' Q& W A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
3 ?1 h6 }6 V  P: v! D0 U* A5 v An accidental offspring of a boulder
+ |; D9 {6 A1 H4 R: d$ ~ But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
& e- f" v( q, D# M Is neither understood nor appreciated
+ A. h: Y5 l/ q) n2 G2 k But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
; p, \( b; T& l, d, s  u- `% @ Its insignificance is transformed
% ~6 |! m+ e  j Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
0 z+ n) {+ b  Y
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
& B' z+ e6 `  Y" a7 \2 I5 R3 I, B Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
& b8 ^1 p# V! U- N1 i Gently affecting everything in its wake
  F$ o) n; E! n: A! ]9 q Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
" [0 I# D& K8 s7 {: p" E4 |* P Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
. j; Q* O) a2 a4 V Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
% |; X8 L  K: n3 d Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
- Z* s- \+ C  J  T! e Can never be measured in isolation
4 F3 N/ ]: R6 G8 k on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
; d. Q# U# I/ T0 }4 d9 B Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
( k& B4 r. ]. i, h7 U8 L* L Creating ripples
' x" l5 o8 X8 P that leave unique mark on our world
3 k8 d0 ?4 F$ Z) X% |6 O' }( [ Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
( t6 H# i6 }! c3 a6 G But because of actions.

8 t# ^5 n; h) V Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
9 l* _9 f, j; z3 J: L) A1 W No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

/ `3 W5 n5 L" d9 g; r And when the icy winds of death
  g% \5 z) w; g) Q beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
, z. @+ G5 e2 U1 g7 n With the knowledge that
8 q+ J- ?- R- | because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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- z- T5 F: Z6 {# M) a. N) a1 D9 z And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
; ]0 |9 _- D0 y7 { 8/18/03