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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# D9 W5 w8 U: z6 ^9 N 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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' E* J8 j7 q& l5 L Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
: c* |* c  U6 _2 n! |$ o Made small over time
0 J: ~  r' Z" ? A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
3 J1 }5 }% B6 ?& P1 Z3 s% r A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
! t2 ?- W( a  d5 [ But just a very small stone.
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: Q+ I( U- B8 j  ~ The pebble's place in our world
& J/ \2 H* x4 f% C Is neither understood nor appreciated
) T9 g: @' b8 E7 a6 w) b But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
5 C* ?7 n1 `" L: z% T; X Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
( h* Q* {5 b" n0 S6 j( Q Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
) v  J. f) D/ e4 N Gently affecting everything in its wake
4 y; h* ~1 p6 I( F6 u+ [; q Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

: h; }  R. j- q- [* ] The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( E1 l7 ^' J7 e: \. w1 S2 w* e By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
# _: n" w) A" [ Creating karmic energy
) i( @9 b9 t3 `) A Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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) m. x% x( S0 W Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
  W$ q+ g" {7 f/ b8 c- J 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:
Our everlasting future
7 P# C, N$ S+ g0 }; q: M Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
5 \$ f: E2 [7 x% M that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
- c* |$ B- ~: ]  ~, r not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

+ j) `% @. h8 l; }+ @" w Our life's prayers our answered
/ v* o+ S0 ^5 a Because even the smallest pebble
4 u# ~% V( h! D0 D, ~% [ No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
$ Q; i0 W6 B9 M5 a# [( d2 W: D5 t1 I Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
( J+ A) e6 G: Y5 b, F1 Q9 X8 J9 x We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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9 [  x+ B7 r) K2 D9 g4 |0 U; x And then we have heaven …
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& v- a4 ]% m3 W* l/ T; l% K Ross Rosenberg
# ]2 C* W; r6 H% i1 {# y3 p 8/18/03