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.

9 ~6 B" s$ F$ w Heaven
( s3 c8 S* k2 Y9 c The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
4 T" _! e' O( v) g2 a# O A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
/ m2 f  e, a" Y! s But just a very small stone.

$ W: w0 o; P8 O" v& { The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
, U1 s* y) ?% t9 |9 n3 x, @ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
- n: K, e: L$ U) v% o  A Its insignificance is transformed
' S! x1 T) V8 L- H/ a& w3 V2 ` Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

# W; O+ S1 j- { The instant the pebble kisses the pond
' M$ }" V  Y  T5 {7 x% t$ W/ r8 [ Its signature of concentric ripples
1 r$ J, _: i( n# q8 H Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
" l) X: z+ q! O! e2 @ Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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' c. F. g$ y- q4 h3 Z The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
  M0 C: r& I3 K, f+ C Into a dueling force of action and reaction
2 l. m- e  `) \$ A$ S9 _3 ] Creating karmic energy
4 ^2 h3 l% @) w: k Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
  ]# Z+ I4 h" o( `/ C
1 @1 C# e, q# F; a Aren't we all pebbles?
. S7 ?0 _6 P( m1 c Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
1 e1 ]/ P+ g. b6 w" [* D* V That who we are meant to be
3 ~$ ?. A, p( L. i8 Q Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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; v( y' J- i8 B  Q" F2 p It is true then:
7 E3 D! M# R" w0 H/ O# X Our everlasting future
( }) U; X+ d/ }0 \' [, j# O Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
/ c+ Q/ }; h, g* P) h Creating ripples
$ ~$ Q! L. c- Q% J% T that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
$ y; C# F, X8 _: n  v4 `4 n7 b/ L not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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6 ~& W! y- V- `, D+ C; H* }, V( ? Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
3 e+ I# V9 y6 T% [ 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
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
% o* z! o$ U- r  R8 E) m& e1 ^ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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: W4 ]' Z+ v  g Ross Rosenberg
8 y4 l# z1 H7 d; y 8/18/03