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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7 Z% j7 E1 P- _0 W8 [5 m. D( ?+ W0 J% \6 [ 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
Made small over time
9 [; k: z% a4 G0 o, i A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
0 G  L5 y* a* T) e( Y1 H( j, l An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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* l2 g/ T5 |/ u9 N! x1 s: c The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
! T0 G5 A3 |( F  D5 `9 S But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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+ R$ C5 d! `- v0 ^ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
- W, s4 l6 o! M7 W+ F Spiral outwards
6 Z5 C' i) R% ^0 P' q Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
0 X3 G4 t0 X& G+ i Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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$ A$ a- P( I( e1 G& | The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 f: x/ @; X, q7 d Into a dueling force of action and reaction
2 k% p* @0 Q" S* {6 t0 E Creating karmic energy
8 f* q- G6 r) Y2 d8 C9 f Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

4 e, Y: O9 v& w Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
* ]  C+ q, u/ {, d3 J+ L  v2 t That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
+ V" z/ B( C% G Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
: m6 q9 I4 j3 T+ s& P1 D not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

% }. }' r' l2 {, H1 y+ d: ? Our life's prayers our answered
& o- |! f5 `& G3 } Because even the smallest pebble
% s4 H$ m4 B  b( X5 z! Q  R No matter how seemingly insignificant
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
' x* [( {5 L# I- ]+ c, ^ With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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$ Q6 M, O7 Z& Q: I: h And then we have heaven …
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. Z( a% _( M; J' g0 c Ross Rosenberg
8 b1 e( H" W6 ?' h0 x4 ~- v 8/18/03