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.

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.
/ ]3 B+ s, A$ g  D" x! d
; P3 N0 z; m! R1 i! U5 ?0 S/ F1 m# i Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
' a, ~1 |5 k3 d! ^ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
; L& `8 k9 Y- y; { Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
6 w2 L/ n7 I: i3 M9 j6 i3 g. Y Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
& K% y; O  b0 Y% _ Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
- ]3 {  O8 k- _* L By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
4 N9 @9 K/ ^' A' d! J5 \2 i) T2 ^ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
) W. b2 e5 c& M1 `3 [5 G8 G Feeling small and insignificant
* L5 \/ G+ T8 j' L But ultimately recognizing
% b" W4 G1 o1 \, H8 k That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
" t* L1 _/ d1 r: Z3 u  Y on a path into ourselves.
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% O) e) x$ r3 Z: \- t It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
% ^7 A% a/ D/ c* L8 ? Into the pond of life
' m7 F- b% d. L6 D/ I* a9 z) N Creating ripples
! E- j3 r1 @3 p. X6 U( Q that leave unique mark on our world
8 _# L. k8 ~* A/ O Not because of thoughts
: E, Q$ r$ b  \ not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
# [, f  v; U9 e0 @# b% x No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
+ \4 y; d$ H' e0 P: K/ | Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
) Z/ B( P5 G7 a) ]& E2 G We will gently leave this life
' u/ b: ^! x2 u' h  z7 w  o With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
0 _# E! r% A# S The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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" P; `2 r& [( Y3 a% C8 M7 q Ross Rosenberg
9 Y. Y/ A7 Z/ A 8/18/03