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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) y0 f  s6 {) P5 @) m" K; x3 y7 I; j 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
The pebble is worn smooth
( S' Y8 q4 ]0 ]% f; f2 P Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
% E0 w" O- z9 c  D But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
& |( I* D% F9 s Its insignificance is transformed
* [1 _3 H6 t# v( Z5 U Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

% U  j1 C) J9 u: c, i1 O The instant the pebble kisses the pond
$ t9 x, m: }( B* ^) _+ T Its signature of concentric ripples
; a3 }) V4 P5 I4 {$ I Spiral outwards
& I+ `9 U/ `: B, |" z' w Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

* ]6 ?, Q) X9 Y6 \2 Q" j( X: t: K The pebble creates its worth and meaning
  B0 t$ p+ ^  Y, ?$ E By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
) P  I) D4 x' K; ~6 T* K Feeling small and insignificant
$ `8 d6 K0 t8 w+ c But ultimately recognizing
  ]. G' ~% \' O- B4 } That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
* }4 h) A% Z! w0 q" @
/ T. Y) z8 S, L* X It is true then:
  l, a, \9 y2 Y  r  k8 h7 ? Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
9 E, ^8 n+ W; q: F3 I) q Creating ripples
, A) a6 `3 M- ^; t& W that leave unique mark on our world
1 @# g% }9 M$ ^! L Not because of thoughts
4 f* `+ _) n, H0 Q/ L not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
5 @0 R- {5 R5 _" n5 o" ]
8 j& v# N* R3 o* D2 X8 F- l2 L. ? Our life's prayers our answered
! `$ I& }9 ^( G  D+ B" ?, E Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
5 P/ I/ _$ D( j4 e Of those we touch.?

4 I( Z5 L1 H+ c And when the icy winds of death
- q& V( u" u- j beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
% C2 t$ ~  \7 E7 w* j! ?: e, y With the knowledge that
1 E" g: X! O& y5 a because of that one pebble
7 T9 R# B5 J! C. z2 B& q The world will never be the same.
) E9 ^  n0 Y' K- f* Q1 {
And then we have heaven …

% ]1 z" w( b5 r$ S% P9 O% ~0 r8 p Ross Rosenberg
' u8 K9 ^2 u' o% _0 i4 |5 G  G 8/18/03