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
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
: _8 G+ A0 ^$ z+ d5 ?2 y. r A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
6 G' e3 B) p3 m8 C An accidental offspring of a boulder
1 `  p- q; _3 S. f8 q- S8 U But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
2 e  A. q- @. H/ {/ N$ n Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

4 U' T5 M  t5 [3 ^; X5 D* s The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
2 c$ \4 h$ S% `# E: P3 q" D Spiral outwards
7 x7 o  |6 h/ y3 ]  F. Z2 L' m Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

% F4 z1 L; y3 j) h The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 x& {- Q0 t1 l$ p/ _2 a3 D. r Into a dueling force of action and reaction
$ s$ f' b0 g9 O+ w4 H Creating karmic energy
" t7 N/ I: @. t Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
& L7 u# N; f5 @' f' } Feeling small and insignificant
% S: z. }' }+ S. [. p( s But ultimately recognizing
5 X. c+ e3 K/ B- B, ]! c  e That who we are meant to be
, K% _; q1 M# d9 E7 q  J* Y" W* T* P Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
( h& s# Y- i. w! R4 B! T) w Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
5 V% {* M; G, G% f/ ] that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

3 r0 a' U0 v2 h! \" g8 X% w6 @0 { Our life's prayers our answered
. P) N: D5 i5 z3 r+ U. |! {3 J( s1 u1 z Because even the smallest pebble
3 G) X5 T0 z, L1 |- `# P- X No matter how seemingly insignificant
( [. L$ r4 l* R% B  F6 Y0 F Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
8 ?  C) q5 r3 `/ l. t+ R8 ] beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
  ^4 J/ W9 z2 N2 E" M$ _; h because of that one pebble
2 T9 @8 j8 J1 j2 \( m* o9 m: e4 I The world will never be the same.
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2 G% t6 _" I- _6 d: L* U; J/ u And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
+ L* B' T3 C; r* T. D6 E 8/18/03