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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$ A5 U5 S9 D8 Q/ Q) 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.
" E; d* Y* J: o; X. M! a! {- s
, g: \1 r; E2 s. F3 O  ?! v( U Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
! n" Z# C0 X) V1 Y A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: I5 o% u$ z* h! B% G+ H7 e4 Q A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 g6 A; ?  I1 f- y1 k An accidental offspring of a boulder
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
! h% c) _& [, {* G/ @) V) ]+ C Its insignificance is transformed
3 d# [& v9 ]% N/ Z Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
7 Y2 P8 M' k! V% T2 |4 l8 c  ]& O
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
% ~% k' ]' X# w Moving far beyond itself.
! Y1 R0 i( I7 Q* h0 z8 M. I Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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; [( Y( q1 {) U; X The pebble creates its worth and meaning
: i, e, d/ c: \: i6 Q By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
2 I4 C2 j" W; n. i& x' e Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
3 o1 s" ?+ a3 v% s6 V Feeling small and insignificant
! ?. {" ]/ x9 t' p( @ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
5 m" p9 _$ U0 A, S3 o$ J0 ]6 v Can never be measured in isolation
5 p" E9 L* q, G& T on a path into ourselves.
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5 [% }) g: e" |& p& x8 R( E$ r It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
5 r. e6 U4 C3 x4 m Creating ripples
$ d! t, b3 N8 X1 w that leave unique mark on our world
* u5 T8 G8 _2 j, N  T- L+ M; }+ l6 j Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
3 V: `6 q5 c; M7 @  n8 D' M But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
$ }+ T! Z( k% p4 p, W, ]9 D1 K Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
+ a6 f! _( m* f; r$ P With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

* W" s! m7 U. B% O, w Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03