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.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
0 p) x9 x3 X0 ^  |2 | Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, M7 n0 u1 `; o, G9 {, T9 P) s$ f8 F An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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7 W) Q* q9 k) v4 E7 w The pebble's place in our world
& a2 D4 f/ u, k" S5 c  D: x! O Is neither understood nor appreciated
! x& H; D/ U& D# _. I' c But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
8 e% v3 L3 s% t7 t$ W3 E% I+ l8 S Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

" ^* F4 ?6 P* l The instant the pebble kisses the pond
4 o- ?) P! u1 F3 G: w. C& F Its signature of concentric ripples
% }" g# A0 }8 a7 g' _, g Spiral outwards
7 Q; v% g& B* ^- J0 I Moving far beyond itself.
. @4 R( \* _. A2 m4 q Gently affecting everything in its wake
7 Q2 I7 u. h; j! G Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

4 P9 b- Q, G: ]; ~# V The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
! h3 E5 R9 q) @ Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
. s  j& ~% A+ I- `# ?; `4 z But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
; h. H; X( b" I' O6 [ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
; }3 t/ b; D' ^# z7 t9 e4 F1 R" _3 R Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
; O; F- o! P8 x( N% Z- ]1 ^( k& i Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
. z; X  e; v7 Z that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
! |* s- Y( N! m not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
& ^# G! c/ n! P8 i Because even the smallest pebble
& u% |; b8 P( S4 f/ L0 s0 @, E No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
; ]6 J, Z" L; E# D We will gently leave this life
( |: U. O* x, _9 B9 @0 ?8 W3 o4 j With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
2 g( X, \% F) H$ k& }& F" R" [ The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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0 T- u& `1 K) }4 N) D) ? Ross Rosenberg
3 s' F6 Y+ k0 Y; Q: n 8/18/03