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
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
& P& W3 E5 O3 z But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
( p$ c2 c1 p  w) b Is neither understood nor appreciated
( ~; K. f/ F$ |. p But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
- A! W2 a$ U" ] Its insignificance is transformed
) u6 p  n. S; L: y) M/ |( K" M Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

5 L. Y: Y! [* F8 S" c The instant the pebble kisses the pond
$ k9 B" U7 V) b% { Its signature of concentric ripples
4 D6 X& m' Q" Y6 C+ l9 ?0 V% q# c Spiral outwards
) b# ?* @* D" |  F& P Moving far beyond itself.
. t7 K; A1 y/ B0 d8 \% _8 h Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
' O; w/ b. v, |) J Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
6 I6 g! }, x3 h' Z, B Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
' K7 c4 W  H  U But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
. A2 s0 T* {# R; D8 T4 t Can never be measured in isolation
5 m) P' m) Q4 A) |3 I3 t on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
" T- f$ T& v# s9 G2 m Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
0 L* t$ k' N% B$ T" K) v8 | Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
5 ~$ J' o5 O6 l4 M2 h8 }" o' e Not because of thoughts
# [/ A% j6 c( H: ?! [& c not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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& {* u, u/ d( N  b' ~+ }& B Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
! a& D+ g+ R; F0 }3 S Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
, a- m: f3 _: s# ^3 K beckon our lasting attention
( @: j8 I' a' Q+ v+ ^ We will gently leave this life
7 ?+ n+ F2 i0 X6 l* \) d; ^ With the knowledge that
8 H3 e* D8 @* p5 p$ w because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

: Y* r: ?9 o5 `- I3 {) k3 T And then we have heaven …
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  e* G) x, a* v0 @1 Q7 ? Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03