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.
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Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
8 d+ ~( V" a& b; P; _ Made small over time
" \  d: ^) k; G/ ?" h& F7 U( m4 l A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
; I) ?$ ?9 c# q: _; D3 U$ x3 L A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
1 b: k' N9 h+ h' w3 X$ K But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
+ \! ?- [# c) g0 C) H' L. u( Q Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
7 V  L! ^( [; H3 W6 v4 f5 C Its insignificance is transformed
" G3 \5 R: X# }; a5 U! p9 f Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
# I3 ?. p' ]* E. N" m! \ Its signature of concentric ripples
# z5 c6 ?( ~. q Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
( M& z8 [$ f; D3 e8 r( P. E9 R Gently affecting everything in its wake
% g8 O" c: e8 X) h Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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* k- p) i5 c! ]# A; N" _ The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
% U! @# B# a& ^* o# s. I Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
+ N: v) L7 b& y1 O7 F& {  F2 N Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
5 d/ u. ^7 s! |7 m0 ~2 ^ Can never be measured in isolation
3 {. l/ v8 z1 ] on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
* z' m4 z7 T) f5 R" d Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
& d$ `) w4 {, A; H that leave unique mark on our world
* |! T- V; ^9 ?( I! E# F* O Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

5 F( Y* {! T: a Our life's prayers our answered
- z8 [& h4 o2 N0 F$ D9 i Because even the smallest pebble
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
  D: @: _: t5 o0 R0 N" F. y/ w9 J With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
1 M/ L( h  P2 j1 o The world will never be the same.

( h9 k: p2 s. ~ And then we have heaven …

2 \/ y6 x: i$ g) ^: } Ross Rosenberg
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