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* ]6 E# w% ]7 K+ |7 d- `* _. y 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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. c  P; T6 h0 r1 u6 m) }: h9 S Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
+ A  x2 O- H3 L( u2 b( k2 a. |! I- a 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.
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The pebble's place in our world
( m# s' B1 a9 R! j6 x6 Z* e Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
1 g1 v" m% [! w/ U9 r3 M Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
3 z; `1 r" o5 `, V% }+ M. e9 H Its signature of concentric ripples
; s$ }  I9 u" `; C Spiral outwards
9 V& h' f/ j& F; a Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
6 P5 J! y5 F& `, A Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
6 M$ p3 j( G8 J/ {; G. N Into a dueling force of action and reaction
" _; |  t( E1 r9 `  B( [ Creating karmic energy
# w. @5 o/ e. ~$ @ Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
9 s* V+ ~, ]" ^6 } 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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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
  `4 g2 a. _, b; `4 v( `$ x Creating ripples
" y+ [* u5 z4 Z( N that leave unique mark on our world
6 ?: B3 G9 a8 D! s2 E Not because of thoughts
: x6 ~3 j5 a) | not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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/ D; m7 t2 G2 w9 n. L1 f Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
+ @& g+ y5 z/ `1 @. T# ?1 C6 U No matter how seemingly insignificant
# O( ~& o9 {4 T2 ?% l' U( Y  r  m Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

3 [. q# q& B7 }* b2 O And when the icy winds of death
0 b, @3 o" k% }9 V0 e. H+ Q beckon our lasting attention
" [" U( E1 g& C2 z) R We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
* ~$ g# T1 {; `' {* b: ?# ^ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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) C; l" M' p0 l( b) s/ l And then we have heaven …
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# {7 \: X2 [! Q; q Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03