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.

Heaven
' }8 }; b5 h& c* z# Y The pebble is worn smooth
6 n9 p  e8 N" l' y Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
4 I/ W" I, p" B( U# s1 r A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
0 G0 f3 o' _0 o  b* Z4 o/ I5 ^ But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
0 F4 z( y" ?, m2 m Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
( {* ]8 j' v7 @7 Q Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

" r. c% t# u  k0 R8 H The instant the pebble kisses the pond
& b% N, J$ p, c9 o Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
% i4 ]' I+ b( ]6 \" g0 s5 n( M Moving far beyond itself.
7 c% z2 ?! T6 O, v+ \ Gently affecting everything in its wake
( O! w( X9 u1 p( T# U1 ~( C Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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" F. P; {& y& w The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
' Y* ?4 W. V' Y% u9 v1 O Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
5 F6 J" i0 Q1 h2 n  L1 o$ f: m% M Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
2 Q* C# y; G' N, \" N4 Y Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
  [+ _& F+ |# ^2 \ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
" f3 M. b9 J" m7 @4 N1 N4 I on a path into ourselves.
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8 Y) [' ], B- Z' o& c/ S& T# b It is true then:
3 p: t. E1 b7 ]: z2 E. i: |) X. f Our everlasting future
2 o; I8 t. ~# }8 s7 K1 |1 K6 t) P Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. N: b2 w, b1 W1 P7 D Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
; u$ d: b. Y4 J; s9 D Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
) J+ r$ p2 u2 O! s2 O. P) @ Because even the smallest pebble
" X9 j& o2 n$ a+ m% r- \4 Y- j No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
# p( V+ d7 N; {3 ~% V) s We will gently leave this life
( `) c9 V0 X3 ?1 _ With the knowledge that
0 d, x2 U+ ?" e' B because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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. J1 q' L8 g" w6 S Ross Rosenberg
1 q+ G. G4 i  J6 ^ 8/18/03