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.
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Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
" Z( a) ]# D0 m( Y Made small over time
& v7 T8 Y" Q7 |8 U1 p$ f; g" t' s& T A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
% A1 C: [! A7 q An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
0 J/ ~$ q& U- a% g Is neither understood nor appreciated
5 G0 a# J3 X' d" K4 @ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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  f( I+ [% W* Y( w! G The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
1 x* t* V( W$ K% B3 x, T Spiral outwards
2 ^: v6 b4 F0 J3 t3 r3 {. S+ w Moving far beyond itself.
( H# r2 S# F' {# F Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

! ~6 e5 F4 O! }: e9 }# x The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( _. [' |8 e* L; \$ j 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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' a7 e7 Y8 Y* n4 p, m' K$ d" s Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
1 ~" M, Z' V. N, X& U6 `$ a on a path into ourselves.

% X; I- L$ @& m; b  S) ]! Q( z2 S" j It is true then:
" B% [" A+ ]" t& F Our everlasting future
; I% e- h& t. G; A0 ^! z Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
5 G. U6 I) u$ [( ` Into the pond of life
" w3 l+ V1 h  {4 p7 G) l Creating ripples
; Q: ^* }7 I- U1 c; w/ k0 ~( @ that leave unique mark on our world
+ _; Z; t5 t. H Not because of thoughts
$ ~; ]: R3 @& R( M2 u' W not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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" R7 w/ ^8 W) ^) a/ _ Our life's prayers our answered
5 \- E- w; P% w) M8 T" O$ }/ X Because even the smallest pebble
* C: G6 u# n0 m6 p; { No matter how seemingly insignificant
. y0 x9 V9 j: z1 j( I' T Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
1 P9 G) u8 {& K) `4 }# i beckon our lasting attention
0 j2 B9 Z8 B; t4 c4 o, h8 Y8 |6 x( N We will gently leave this life
+ P8 Z2 t+ M/ X; k: j" I$ c With the knowledge that
# Y5 \* Z) ^' B8 e because of that one pebble
5 K$ N3 t" E0 t" L: v( k+ {) W0 V) } The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03