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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Heaven
5 l( q: [$ y: E. f The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
& X: @0 H" K% W% I+ @ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
/ _6 f) {$ ^& L! x' L But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
3 F' S7 p: J/ @: F. _. N* B% c Is neither understood nor appreciated
0 r) q3 S: o' e0 P* ]3 U But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
  g# B- N" J5 o' c7 R Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

9 X( j; d8 f1 _2 A0 q The instant the pebble kisses the pond
& U1 T2 o( \6 f! Q+ \4 ]' G Its signature of concentric ripples
! W+ \& x4 P; \+ n, E! J* [ Spiral outwards
' ^' O9 @7 [. `/ \ Moving far beyond itself.
8 T9 y& Z& x, U' |% Q) K$ b# P Gently affecting everything in its wake
% {4 p  s' f6 B  e( l" W0 R Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
* S3 F8 I9 T' K Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
$ r% j; c7 s$ {8 E7 I- R; ]* O" m Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
8 F* v2 F! h9 T+ _) w That who we are meant to be
' T; g  _6 K9 ?3 h' _3 Z Can never be measured in isolation
# c. z0 c6 k5 b$ {" g on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
% r% ^: T5 L" J Our everlasting future
" [, b' p, E2 ?# _- v Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
: ~# z2 w3 @# u; f Creating ripples
9 @3 L7 M) z# j# y that leave unique mark on our world
8 Q  p2 L- Q9 D Not because of thoughts
) P3 n2 S. T6 l; J! }( e5 M) r2 j not because of well meaning plans
" f5 O) [, G6 }/ L0 Z6 a" b But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
; ?4 R- b2 [# I3 X( R  ~ No matter how seemingly insignificant
2 S* B" e; i2 C. k% U Changes the course of the lives
2 M. E; p* R% Z1 w6 { Of those we touch.?

) J( \& t/ K# ]( i And when the icy winds of death
$ |! V. }5 g" Z2 B beckon our lasting attention
) F1 G' w* Q. v% T( l; }% \5 h9 o  C We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
( M, v+ C8 c' L. F$ G% i because of that one pebble
0 E/ ?8 U+ }2 E7 P1 G+ @6 B* g5 j The world will never be the same.

' j- K2 D0 [$ a; q( {4 f2 P- F And then we have heaven …

' J1 U9 ~5 O- W. v& | Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03