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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5 x& P$ U4 _( d! h 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
& ~( r7 @; {- o9 [5 A2 w8 a6 ~ The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
- Y% }! I8 C( m7 z2 z; C A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
% m- m0 e8 c6 x/ _7 D+ R But just a very small stone.

) E/ |, C& F/ t  f; [* X/ v The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
/ ?' Y4 \, I) b/ Y7 ^ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
: N& c6 Y7 r( F5 r- a( t Its insignificance is transformed
4 E3 ^" G7 o0 d3 f7 P Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

8 ^+ A- _) S+ t/ b$ x The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
- q+ W% w" V2 R( b5 ?- D Spiral outwards
& z% d9 y( x2 O1 ^" W Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
# C! P: f- l2 \$ b1 v$ V Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

, }: r, E1 p$ q- ` The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
% H% w  s( [" m# B- \# [ Into a dueling force of action and reaction
4 k9 k9 ]& C& g9 x7 k+ I Creating karmic energy
* |7 k9 z6 `0 V: J Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

! c2 a( ^: k( e) `7 m Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
, I& p3 o0 ]& h( V! T7 A That who we are meant to be
; E( ^3 h1 \9 U# T1 s Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
4 S$ o6 u' }- K$ w% x8 ] Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( G4 ]7 z4 |* b: x& W Into the pond of life
9 Y8 p0 _1 r+ k Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
2 T% |" L( l. X: Y' d" a' ?3 B5 B But because of actions.
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% h, n% B8 B' ?7 }# y+ `+ r) V; w Our life's prayers our answered
# e- F* E) L  A1 ~5 E, ]! A  ^ Because even the smallest pebble
0 H, Y4 H) m; b, ?: @" o No matter how seemingly insignificant
6 _0 M( W' S- l) @* Y- m 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
" M8 F+ i/ {4 `% N" C7 Z  r With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

# u' g$ _0 S. X. z Ross Rosenberg
! D* N6 Y! y5 {! S) Z0 g 8/18/03