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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, j, M7 P1 z- H% f 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.

; R! f! A" T# \  D4 N  S# e& N5 m Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
% c5 Y2 E# e# Y3 Z. y  i; N A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
2 u0 U! ?" `8 \: B1 v( t8 g0 T+ \ An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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3 E% |/ A2 A+ ~" ~. a The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
7 O  r* x( z9 \ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
+ w: B% f: d. x  R Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

5 j5 b9 P) @4 Q' j. G7 R The instant the pebble kisses the pond
9 @- j# h# h6 k5 ?" O Its signature of concentric ripples
: G  {: P$ I- K6 g' \/ o6 ^ Spiral outwards
7 A8 x6 o# }* r- X' I' v7 w; f Moving far beyond itself.
+ ~: ^$ E: Y3 l Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

& u2 r; Y! ~/ a' ^, o" W The pebble creates its worth and meaning
# V9 H3 k9 F- `) h By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ I6 e; }5 I. d+ Y) d* R' H Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
9 }) M1 g' h. j7 B Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
- u2 q1 r" a) }& g% C& J- ^ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
2 f( M2 h$ ^; ~ Can never be measured in isolation
# q3 X5 |3 x' m0 U; j% N on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
# D! y1 S5 W6 H' M that leave unique mark on our world
9 T: q6 z+ G1 J/ p Not because of thoughts
9 f; r0 e# Q$ \. p' v not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

. A5 q  L! i) b( ?1 e3 v3 o; `( i Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
5 ~2 M# T! a9 s5 A Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

0 b1 e, i9 M. P; ]( }; J And when the icy winds of death
: d1 [2 M. U" D& {; x6 ~  X beckon our lasting attention
1 {1 ]' ^) H/ x- m  ^ We will gently leave this life
6 s5 W5 P, p. n4 u4 o* M With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
1 U; Q% M7 ]7 |8 Z. Q The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03