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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+ ^/ ?% d5 F0 f% C 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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- d" w/ ^- Y! D5 V( S0 t  J Heaven
5 y+ C; M' J% q% b4 A The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
+ m/ z  k4 ^" U) ~: } A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
  @# x! }4 [% Y A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 j2 w- P& Y$ W% d4 a" U$ V An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
' V6 u! b+ d- V7 P2 }" T Is neither understood nor appreciated
0 Z: j. t, B" _, }6 x But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' U0 p# v/ m4 K6 b" G# K* `& e Its insignificance is transformed
" i; G" ~& W* a Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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: d/ w# ^+ o  N2 K* q% ]; Y5 V The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
/ A& K8 t5 U$ O+ ]8 B- X Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
+ F- B" C/ c  G2 A' ]
& |+ n  r. d, y The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
, z! K' o" A8 L- D0 g/ U+ P) _6 K Into a dueling force of action and reaction
* Q, u& a/ Q; }  R Creating karmic energy
2 B* T- l) y8 w# B. L7 A) K Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
4 U. s2 e7 A& @2 @) h9 @ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
/ O. u; G+ }( K/ l2 T' | on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
1 L1 e( w! i1 P! g; F) ~/ @ Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. ~  ?1 B" c/ Z# ?. ~' U+ ?# K+ r Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
- A0 P1 {, ?- \- {; j that leave unique mark on our world
$ \- {7 M: \+ `( E& Y# v: k" N$ E* M* j Not because of thoughts
5 i& G; W2 f) s; Q not because of well meaning plans
" H/ U0 _' Q  k. E% Y But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
9 N& r; q( v5 p Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
9 F$ \% V* m8 g/ u# V/ ^/ Z7 n beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
% p" ?0 ^# G" D1 Y The world will never be the same.

. Z1 y* M+ J8 I0 w: P5 l, r: w6 k And then we have heaven …

8 q& Y9 R  t' Q+ B3 h) A' M Ross Rosenberg
# e2 Z4 M- |, u/ @8 b 8/18/03