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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$ }) s% S; ]3 F# C, B5 ] 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
. f$ q# f. l6 u- X2 j5 {/ ~. A1 s The pebble is worn smooth
* F0 s, a0 c/ q, e Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
* U( q0 m" n- Q# p A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
5 d# c0 W5 k* Q: L! C% n But just a very small stone.

+ x0 F, B8 n, Y2 }" S The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
2 ~; s1 u6 z, Q8 o3 C8 z1 u! B Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

; }9 Q3 T* l8 c" {1 z) n. D$ t The instant the pebble kisses the pond
3 m- y3 Q( V- Y& K* E9 M8 A$ a Its signature of concentric ripples
7 \% |8 L: F, _: W Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
" y1 n* C" z" G9 m6 H2 r+ l Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

3 g. R3 E2 k( {8 W% ?8 H The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
& \4 E( I* B6 x% r( | Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
  Q( C. Y. _9 S7 y on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
+ h! Q! T8 n4 A) p( ^ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
" e: p( Y$ D7 b4 l; Q' X( B. ? Not because of thoughts
0 ^: J9 C0 ~+ O8 }( M, n not because of well meaning plans
- P' d0 P" B' G  n$ C+ h2 U But because of actions.
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8 h2 U# N7 ?" Y2 ?. n1 p Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
( a  m$ G& Y2 }% t. e No matter how seemingly insignificant
9 d: [# L* w# r: ^  l" l Changes the course of the lives
2 c- v1 @! X0 [; B. o" \ Of those we touch.?
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' d4 Z& W2 c+ r; h- s& }+ Y$ }) j9 _ And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
7 }; k$ }) n' _1 y! n* t because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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9 O2 A7 }3 d, {% u) g* U5 N9 S Ross Rosenberg
" R+ _( R& |' ]0 {  `# W 8/18/03