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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' l; E) m& L* j 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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! |: o6 D3 u; C) z* P Heaven
' `/ \- ^$ Z5 }* \& S4 o) H8 y- \ The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
- ~# r1 r& q& H8 \: v. D A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
0 c3 Z% L6 u& G An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
/ z) ?" i- ~* }8 h Is neither understood nor appreciated
& r& i  f7 x( F7 M; V: A- V But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! O& P6 i9 y# j3 \7 q, z6 I& q4 F. L Its insignificance is transformed
1 A0 t+ _# R' d" }4 g# D Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

" B# O+ p1 L6 [ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
  a  g* ]; T- S6 M& T4 L2 E- O Its signature of concentric ripples
1 b" F5 @) x0 K# z1 J) P) Q8 T Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
9 H: @' t4 u0 T Gently affecting everything in its wake
2 b6 W% y( k. W" ]. _  {% ?' C2 W Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
- G, X% G/ w: o Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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' H* t9 H8 n+ {% [3 I' X; ? Aren't we all pebbles?
8 [1 x4 q% j0 Q7 K Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
4 C: G; p) J' v% u& D That who we are meant to be
2 r3 a6 t9 o" A! e Can never be measured in isolation
! `/ @) {8 {1 l1 A* o) U on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
+ {( {+ b# t& `7 C. f not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
; p. g& C* t! J  ^/ X+ O/ e Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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5 b- G) u; u) T* ~, b' ` And when the icy winds of death
, k$ D; z+ h9 v  v beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
7 r* G: i7 q; m" f because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
4 U* N' F5 o- b$ |5 l6 I
4 w7 G4 ^7 m8 X3 z Ross Rosenberg
1 Z9 r- B: H6 B$ f& @# b 8/18/03