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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; ]" V4 o, \1 B 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
) l% u, l( Q, H+ J9 T The pebble is worn smooth
9 M8 `+ S3 a  r" ~5 c Made small over time
/ m* a& b  Z4 M. y; z4 ^ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
. s. y4 [8 }% {$ O7 X+ @ An accidental offspring of a boulder
! B6 P% w5 w* Q But just a very small stone.

6 U! b; i. E7 r The pebble's place in our world
3 d; I# A) w% F: T5 [" F Is neither understood nor appreciated
2 s& P) f( q) Q+ o But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
, v; ~9 c/ I$ I. J) B4 _+ _ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
& B1 V8 r- j$ i' l  y Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

, c" I: J) [4 I7 ~9 q The pebble creates its worth and meaning
6 i, ^9 `) K( F! q By unleashing its unimagined power?
& A* [6 q) [# w' d% t% L Into a dueling force of action and reaction
; I& ]5 o$ n4 N6 J0 \& m Creating karmic energy
3 Q+ \' o& g* d5 d! ^. l Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

- P0 W  U6 X0 B7 s2 p Aren't we all pebbles?
+ \5 b- }# T( V) [8 S) t/ Q0 `6 F Feeling small and insignificant
' j2 s& _" o* U8 C, h. }, K But ultimately recognizing
% ~) [& X+ ?+ k* f 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
" d: o4 M, [+ o, U0 ?  R  Q# x- o Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
" t/ n0 |% t2 i: p Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
# \- g. E( S1 E/ _ But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
. h, y. ~, t1 ^# [( d( ^ Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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: c: `4 E6 _1 M8 M9 z& v And when the icy winds of death
# j& z0 ^% L7 m3 v beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
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 …

$ {" I1 I3 k/ @% L( m- v1 z Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03