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.

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
; h8 K/ ?9 E; m. _: I/ c1 B" d The pebble is worn smooth
5 P8 U6 H% V2 X( m' p1 Z' v$ ` Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
" N5 c  e7 L) d6 u/ x8 A  w A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
& {. A# I. q& G5 J: E" C7 w. _ An accidental offspring of a boulder
, y) ~4 r2 h) X) r- M' x But just a very small stone.
5 o+ R* D" I3 U% `8 p
The pebble's place in our world
9 p% y' M2 `4 T* U. e Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' Z0 [7 _! A; ~; D Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
3 f% `& A5 L/ R. F$ T) x" g Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
5 Y) ?; b* u- g9 t Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
1 `; z  T6 P/ [. }  c9 g By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
, K% k" r. b( _* t( l Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
) `, n6 F* `& a  c on a path into ourselves.
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% w0 l; C6 O2 Q' X It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
# P5 j. A4 S6 Y2 u/ B' Z Into the pond of life
8 Y$ L/ m; ]4 [# G  q: d! i Creating ripples
" m9 V/ x0 d* A* P  Z. p5 Z1 E7 a that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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7 ]2 W  q) V' i+ K! O7 F Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
4 }8 x8 O! o. I* w# B* } No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

# w/ n  M3 ?  Q' V( k1 X7 `0 N And when the icy winds of death
7 a8 g* x' `, Z  d0 l% i beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
6 Y6 Y% p  p* c3 _ The world will never be the same.

; S- L$ C) o; c( @* ~ And then we have heaven …
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1 o6 y2 A" n7 z2 ?8 n" i+ | Ross Rosenberg
$ W( h2 K1 ^3 y. b. f0 S9 E9 P 8/18/03