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.
$ B7 }2 M3 c0 h/ k
# {2 D$ {9 M5 ^5 T Heaven
0 T5 p, E2 b3 \3 p- ~% v' j The pebble is worn smooth
# n# F( X% t5 F- u0 H Made small over time
# @' G4 C7 d/ X  l% O A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
7 U7 q- M: j0 W8 Y( {9 u9 @ But just a very small stone.
: y0 V5 b! J# q: ]- z
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
( a. R1 p! A8 e! R But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
/ p. c* m- U' k# Z0 Q; ?- l Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
5 O2 T: w, @  C Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

7 c9 n, _3 e1 J2 x* B The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
! p8 x0 i! {; U& m; O
. C1 b3 o6 l1 `7 U3 n Aren't we all pebbles?
' w/ a& C9 }& _# z9 ]8 q Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
: y/ X8 Y# h1 `7 m( U. _- C; @/ ? 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:
7 Y3 P; f) n9 O& {, t. K( v/ o Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
: z  [4 E4 y4 l( p' O Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
/ l0 k; ]3 ]7 J- J7 Q that leave unique mark on our world
  l0 w: O" u0 U) C! m Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
/ }$ v+ @: I0 s
- x$ j5 o' |! \: a( n, O9 z Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
7 d" m4 ]. H6 X/ a  F, G- J No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
* R2 `, Q. S$ c5 a* G+ Z Of those we touch.?
3 Z3 G: ?8 ?# W, {3 Q- O
And when the icy winds of death
1 k8 g' V- M( ^+ ^6 w) C beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
! I/ ?! K8 Z4 ]2 [: G: d3 A With the knowledge that
$ D7 Y) U1 j( D0 i# w3 s because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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2 o- Q- P& K. z# q/ ~7 n( { And then we have heaven …
, u' i4 U! L& Z1 `7 I& P& b* e' ~
+ G1 D. {2 |/ {/ R Ross Rosenberg
* U( k1 I7 U. W# I; Y0 A 8/18/03