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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+ z7 d1 I; ?8 V7 A/ s& G4 @( K' e6 G 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
The pebble is worn smooth
$ ?5 V9 Y! G1 p5 R+ b% C' o/ L1 R Made small over time
9 H3 D4 `/ B7 S) a9 ~! w  x A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
3 ~$ ^- r0 R: {6 k An accidental offspring of a boulder
2 Y$ \4 S1 P1 a+ Q$ q3 m% o But just a very small stone.
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8 V8 n& T+ j9 x. F1 l4 j. y; a4 ]7 n The pebble's place in our world
  k1 S6 i5 e6 U* d Is neither understood nor appreciated
9 ?# y7 e# L' W- H But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
0 ]8 |  t* d0 `: e Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
' I; G/ D% s% F  j5 m Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
& [* u" m+ y7 t6 T) ?! q, M Gently affecting everything in its wake
+ _6 d1 H. j* n" [) ? Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
: f. y6 w1 c4 O2 w- H Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
5 g/ n3 x& Q2 ~/ L( A2 Z% s Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

; y" v2 U" F0 X! p+ w( S Aren't we all pebbles?
# V4 J$ B( H2 @+ K" H% U Feeling small and insignificant
, g) {' j% d0 u3 L* I; O But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
9 R9 [+ K, t% c9 R9 i& E* u8 s, T Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
; Q7 A/ P4 _: ]9 j& _1 Y, G Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
9 b3 r7 ?% O' U+ e6 C Into the pond of life
  P/ A4 U( R/ R# M5 e- q3 ? Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
' H8 o& }8 M  N: A, t/ } Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
! U; w5 J* [1 ?9 |. E- U# l, K6 D Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

4 j; T" g. Z- [& R0 O And when the icy winds of death
- H1 F; C* `7 y: ` beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
. `; f5 o- J2 ~+ _: j6 ?  t/ m With the knowledge that
* s4 \$ w0 r) X7 P1 { because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
$ F: F5 g; T# `4 h( w3 n" [ 8/18/03