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.
5 i% b: h( @9 S: y. m5 x8 z
' H3 u4 c- k3 ^7 W* 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.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
1 _# Z6 R) @2 x- ]' h! ~, K Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
# Q# [: }5 A$ C7 u A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
7 f8 K0 d' z" t1 q% h9 P An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
8 G7 {( w3 a$ F, W- f9 Z3 R- }7 H( F
The pebble's place in our world
! x1 [6 i8 n! t% f Is neither understood nor appreciated
) g7 d6 {% K7 D; d But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
0 `  e; \: p* y( |+ t7 K  P( n Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
: T6 V1 k( [, \- f9 P
. y6 i% X6 @) f( x& A( J3 @% _ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
# F; T8 g  l% r; {: f. } Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
; a5 r2 I5 ]6 Y; c! K0 J Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
7 M' w2 j0 \4 J" t6 Q/ L1 L+ P By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
+ b! c" P# o8 t- z$ C Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
7 k5 j0 O& `5 P5 D& A! q/ s" A* v% E4 y Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
# s) ~9 O: `' a0 D+ | That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
* g) v6 i1 G, Q/ G# A- I on a path into ourselves.

! R, i, w; |% l; T" N1 `8 w. ? It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
7 p3 P/ O3 `3 A$ p+ M9 D Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
5 Q  g& w2 Y5 a  W" I that leave unique mark on our world
8 ]; U$ z3 Z( A8 _ Not because of thoughts
. {) e6 g8 A( d0 a not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
3 ~" z- |$ @0 ?
! g$ r- o( k) M' ]4 j Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
) \. Z/ y9 G0 { No matter how seemingly insignificant
' P& `8 F, g. ]7 Q& X Changes the course of the lives
  i+ z% |4 ?7 x2 t2 M5 K0 F, j Of those we touch.?

8 Y6 I! S# I) T; t And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
4 G6 e* Q  b) A. m5 i& c3 K+ z% I We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
  c8 }2 U2 S5 z because of that one pebble
# I1 a! D$ P* g- b The world will never be the same.
7 i( X# A/ p* d2 F
And then we have heaven …

7 e* }/ y) O0 M" W Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03