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.

8 ~  c4 J; r) L4 M3 X8 d% j0 p4 E- h Heaven
0 f6 o2 r) ?2 Q7 y' H The pebble is worn smooth
3 n- h! w# S. i* U+ g5 i. u! B Made small over time
& w) \5 l! O' ~2 W& p7 e9 m0 B A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
0 s, z* m4 v  k+ u9 z9 P, g- G Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

. S+ c- t/ t" j7 }( b The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ C- G& t3 |0 c+ H Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
+ [1 y- D. \0 o& \  ^4 N) ] Gently affecting everything in its wake
% h8 _$ N: z/ U4 X Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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9 L/ F9 \& R. U" E! h( x3 \5 L The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
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
on a path into ourselves.
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; n1 y' \5 P6 G' D It is true then:
: @: D& c1 W: |% l Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
' S4 L3 j* E% ]! h0 J( g4 @/ v+ H Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
0 R3 h& I+ Q( r9 n Not because of thoughts
9 B) Q/ d0 k! I7 b0 m; W: r not because of well meaning plans
$ K5 ]6 H) g  O' [' R& q But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
8 ]4 ^6 r% K& T" e6 F: E+ ~ 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
- t/ {' A2 F1 r% h/ ^4 |, t6 B; F We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
! ?) R/ g3 Q# O( I6 _+ U; j4 [ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

% q& B1 W) a* f5 r& ~ And then we have heaven …
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- J7 V, C) I2 Z: X3 r: ]" R1 d Ross Rosenberg
, ~/ G3 M9 d' B' n) z+ [4 _- _9 j' l 8/18/03