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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4 z- A* t  R/ _* t Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
& Y0 z" F) h9 _6 ^ 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
7 d9 {8 V+ q% Z8 i But just a very small stone.

+ U! i0 o! W) @' A3 W3 \ The pebble's place in our world
3 V3 R6 x2 E% c+ R# K! T Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
! v1 h3 ?& {7 P/ `- b  S2 H. ^1 q5 O Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
; w3 k8 Z3 M  p" J1 D" ~ 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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  T5 Z& L# b+ C% y$ b1 V Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
+ s( T- G  R9 Q" g# c+ r 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:
; T. b  m( ]4 Y& z0 b: _* O' q Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
1 g) C  w2 E/ K6 F1 o- U$ F Into the pond of life
# w6 A* G2 s0 C& d) u/ k7 q Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
3 r5 N: n9 W. j# R0 f! t8 }. i. b not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
* _+ C9 o6 h6 ?* s( c( ?% x Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
  z1 j% o/ A/ j Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
' F; `4 v- u4 D" b$ O beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
) [, b2 K4 ]) b# y( @2 b because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
& ~* B' P1 T: w  f) ~/ `0 h
& ^1 M- r4 ~* D And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03