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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" w; q8 L- \( k/ t 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.

Heaven
* d2 T6 P) K# u The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
" ?$ g' X' m2 {/ e! D* a8 D A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 u8 K* Q7 J0 o$ M8 r A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
0 U" ?9 O8 m1 w  P3 E* s& h An accidental offspring of a boulder
  ?5 U* ~0 L- Q& N. [) L# V But just a very small stone.

) x& R# U3 _2 `  T9 e) ? The pebble's place in our world
' z" z& Q' x, | Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
" X% X. Z7 ]2 K) M Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
, j: m) t4 k0 l6 D0 D
8 d4 k  N/ ^4 @. C The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
2 m: E6 [' P, ^2 \, K: W; U Moving far beyond itself.
# ]! g! j+ E0 h/ G( A% K Gently affecting everything in its wake
7 e3 S  O0 v+ _( P0 A- ^5 J Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
2 e) d) Q: C$ G' c$ V
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ L3 `6 P. S* d& L- b Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
8 n2 Y0 X- t. P Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
% r- K; i% E# r% F- |
Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
0 D# ]+ P, J4 e9 t# @6 G' H+ ^ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
  x+ u7 O/ U8 l5 ~1 N8 e4 ~- k% k on a path into ourselves.
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; l% P1 N) N% Z) @ It is true then:
% h# z7 w- s6 z0 X' X Our everlasting future
( b. O* M2 F, j' Z Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
: M' W* Y7 L  _) g$ n. ^' L Into the pond of life
* l+ x" f' X( D9 i* Y7 ^6 v+ E2 A Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
. T$ _6 ^6 n8 S: l2 ?( J4 Q Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

5 b2 ]5 p/ a; _0 {) p Our life's prayers our answered
: ~- H6 ^6 f0 [( g9 O Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
8 U7 v6 x5 U1 y( P' f  ~0 U Of those we touch.?

- N/ r; t% u# h3 O3 O8 m; w9 f And when the icy winds of death
& I: J" o! n* N6 p& V. H beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
( j/ o& E: @6 p+ ?5 Z- T5 a because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

7 J/ v! K1 p4 s And then we have heaven …
; |6 ^5 m( ^$ t, \7 e
$ s% Z2 t3 m4 A, \; Q Ross Rosenberg
0 ~0 ]" [0 M1 X4 o9 r 8/18/03