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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& q7 v' C6 `- v$ ] Heaven
5 w' |  l. C' o1 M  J# h& O9 u The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
* T0 q0 T$ \4 x A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
& h# o* M- Q3 N" O( B A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
" N- R" X( D9 H But just a very small stone.
, `% |$ X* z( ~1 B# q& n4 y
1 O! H, }* ^8 _* S) n The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
' j4 b% p: r2 r, X$ M1 Q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
, v& W  z" V+ V6 m: q) r Its insignificance is transformed
% i# \7 |/ S# s Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
9 n: ?+ s+ _" i: g  o! ? Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
# G/ R  G+ {$ h# r! V Moving far beyond itself.
- U7 N6 [3 i% {% V+ ?/ g7 w. g# z! z Gently affecting everything in its wake
) Y7 w7 u* q5 I5 f  N6 m Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
+ W& i/ X4 K9 m Creating karmic energy
9 `8 i/ G  _( l& |. d/ Z3 b2 L Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

1 p& {! k- g1 D0 q Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
& J9 f6 j0 @$ }, ^ But ultimately recognizing
/ E) d2 h8 G' m. A# F& [ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
' G* E, v$ J. {1 T 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
1 u/ Z# ]( x+ i4 ?! G Creating ripples
* k" s1 d1 H( Y4 y4 {- i that leave unique mark on our world
# z' f" n- \% I8 M7 f" F+ i9 Z Not because of thoughts
5 T% r9 `1 A9 U/ c not because of well meaning plans
6 ?. J/ k8 z) ^, G4 E9 ^& E" v0 u- G' ] But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
4 M+ u" B0 S! u# o7 d Because even the smallest pebble
: [* a  y* h! B" b+ V' h/ Q" F No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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& [1 {9 G7 c* u" h0 ^8 }9 g. F/ E And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
3 `- A+ b- |/ T7 l* A We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
0 W8 v4 _' ]- f; N9 o& t' \6 ^ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03