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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8 m: m/ ~6 r5 t! c, E# S( v; | Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
$ w8 C2 f0 m( }7 ?" V& d A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 k: e% a% k9 ?- L+ b An accidental offspring of a boulder
# U' Z7 s7 m9 R5 @ But just a very small stone.

. R4 p- f& [. i9 [( s# H9 B. Z The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# L  K2 \0 \. `$ ], u$ r Its insignificance is transformed
  C0 \1 ]' u" O Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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) N: }6 b- c1 R4 S' S$ } The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
  T. D+ I1 N! \6 e Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
! q) a0 |+ V$ A( u4 @- \ Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ _' d4 X+ D- v; W By unleashing its unimagined power?
/ q. z* L+ C& X; _8 J Into a dueling force of action and reaction
* Y2 J) q+ A7 J  ^% C7 Y Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

# G5 o/ R+ e9 t: s3 N Aren't we all pebbles?
! q- V' E1 t* h6 b; i" s Feeling small and insignificant
+ z6 M; ?( i) @ But ultimately recognizing
7 y# ]5 N; w. H; ^ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
0 \; _! j/ o2 I0 b( F3 ^ Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) `, H3 c: \  `0 a  N/ N Into the pond of life
) E6 |: [' ^0 [, k  y, m0 E, B6 \ Creating ripples
9 Q6 }/ B& B7 }0 R6 ]1 M. w$ K that leave unique mark on our world
$ {3 N) I. i) ?6 o' r" G Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

8 \8 ~+ J* {1 B& i* ^6 x1 w  Q4 u2 B Our life's prayers our answered
6 R! X* f4 X$ E2 z% C Because even the smallest pebble
) G( R9 n. M2 L No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
! G- q" x1 r- Y, h. { beckon our lasting attention
; C+ a: V3 [) r  w; _5 S% C: ~, R' k We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
) y# V7 P! ?3 Q7 J because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

1 h4 `! z% F0 E! g7 @ Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03