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.

, s6 t$ q. c3 M 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
, X' v0 P! F6 d The pebble is worn smooth
/ L- u% b$ c" ?% b, k/ Q$ c8 f2 G Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
  Q# D1 R6 d: C2 g/ }8 K5 g) I* a A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
! Y3 i1 Y( J( X& w6 Y6 D4 M) J An accidental offspring of a boulder
% ]3 G7 d7 k" ]% P; k6 _  Y$ e( y But just a very small stone.
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* H+ n) I$ c% [; e. E( X1 z The pebble's place in our world
7 Z  e" m, _, z" u6 v  [! A Is neither understood nor appreciated
* m; s& `8 A5 @: c9 f4 K6 L But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

/ D& d5 l7 r' H9 c1 g+ ?0 H The instant the pebble kisses the pond
0 A3 K) R3 J1 u* o8 k* J Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
, R- T4 F- O! {. S2 ? Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
" R1 ]6 v% s0 A8 `3 B* g: z" ~& j) y7 { By unleashing its unimagined power?
9 n* V" J5 E: U# h  z3 q4 B( f% Y Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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( t3 s" v1 A* Q. P% j5 S  E Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
4 k& c8 `1 A. F$ r But ultimately recognizing
3 a* D: Z* X3 R- M5 t2 _% b! p That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( w: l* x3 p, O" h; q5 L( g Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
# Y) i8 c5 _2 R; O# } Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

. ?( G# r& z) S! x, t Our life's prayers our answered
# R1 M- ~) |! Q2 G Because even the smallest pebble
/ R5 Q0 S; S7 |; J! H, j No matter how seemingly insignificant
$ M1 y0 v$ P0 z& o' r+ M: e; C Changes the course of the lives
. _% Y! V3 t% H2 R, L# z& r Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
3 w5 U/ j+ s/ V0 K  ~1 V We will gently leave this life
# n9 a) S3 Q5 m# [ With the knowledge that
' {4 y4 I4 N* ?  v$ u because of that one pebble
2 S) e# a/ T2 n4 o8 R, `: p& N: g The world will never be the same.

: e" b, i4 V, k4 p' Z And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03