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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! N( e& _5 ~0 M) i: H6 ^4 K 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.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
2 p  a2 p. ]9 y# c 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.

The pebble's place in our world
+ {" ^( l3 e4 @' w: D- E# E/ _& B0 X* y Is neither understood nor appreciated
' t+ R  |/ W5 Y  V7 X- M: F; M But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 T$ x) w1 Z8 W- W  |" m5 Y) J8 G Its insignificance is transformed
1 y$ q6 z% {% u: S/ q- P; ?$ F. u Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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& p3 ^% _- V. y( s The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
8 h! G  q& A; j* ] Moving far beyond itself.
6 ~5 L' P& q2 K. g* H Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
2 D1 h% \6 q$ b5 v Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
; Z( F# S+ m; Y* `1 [ Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
8 F$ R# k7 ?& P Can never be measured in isolation
8 r/ O! b8 e6 n4 n9 p' z3 k on a path into ourselves.
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2 [$ Y0 ~2 m7 P3 T2 W4 s4 A It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
& n7 P% s, n7 I- g! g Creating ripples
" }" O$ f9 K& g0 t that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
, o7 ?5 M0 @2 s& ~4 c+ l But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
4 d. s3 `( Y. k4 d3 |0 r$ m9 S. `2 x Because even the smallest pebble
: C2 D8 l' ?* T* E) n No matter how seemingly insignificant
: w% Y5 q) i5 l2 B& T 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
9 ]/ D  T$ ?7 c; ?' m. U8 i6 P- N With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
1 _' Y" Q& N/ T6 k1 y* p The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03