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
5 i1 x& U5 p" J0 D$ U! T# L Made small over time
) j5 p0 \1 c% x  \ 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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" K) s( l/ x! t; Y; ~( U, c The pebble's place in our world
/ w$ w+ ?- n1 x% D! s4 g' X Is neither understood nor appreciated
, T7 n0 K* T. N+ ^) _6 {0 q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
& _' z: s# H) l) t" a Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ G0 v% J) f" }9 ] Its signature of concentric ripples
" D/ F) G- H8 m/ ?$ ]  K Spiral outwards
) T( J3 e4 k3 x# T( z" s% ^ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
, F) n) {8 {; C6 G Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
6 i6 J! P& U% `5 m- @ By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
& n) c! x7 `9 G% K& h  d7 ? Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

3 L, w4 V' R4 j2 M6 I. _ 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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* U! M8 c$ r8 n5 U9 @ It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
: L7 O# T& b* u" a  F Into the pond of life
  J! U9 L( A0 f7 t3 u& ]0 u Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
0 B0 Y- q& r5 s/ M. ]$ p But because of actions.
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. X; ^4 B4 Y4 Y" u9 k7 z4 S2 M Our life's prayers our answered
) F7 Z% v9 S. T( A Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
. D- B) z" Q/ J( W4 V# t Changes the course of the lives
1 s/ G# z% e$ k# i Of those we touch.?

) g3 ]$ [0 |; M1 E3 q5 U  J And when the icy winds of death
9 u2 e" ~/ x% T% u9 `4 [- \ beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
; `* f! u! p8 V; O) x$ n2 Q because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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  T  u) u2 U1 e, }, u8 J9 l- _# f7 c Ross Rosenberg
  J/ d# b$ X+ T3 K2 I/ m( @! W1 n7 @ 8/18/03