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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& _! |  Y7 S1 E2 m# M8 Y 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
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
, c5 z# m0 Q+ j3 Q( L But just a very small stone.
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6 D* ~1 n# [. F0 R; k, [+ r The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
, Y7 T, t8 u/ x/ j. F# M2 o Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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* W% M/ z; \7 J' R9 {0 r6 b The instant the pebble kisses the pond
) c( C( m1 Q% ?/ @9 s Its signature of concentric ripples
9 X0 @- X! L" `; F Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
( F4 K$ O4 P$ c8 z; x) q$ T Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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0 }8 U& ~4 [+ T3 x3 x The pebble creates its worth and meaning
; B! k) |& v# m By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 D$ q/ c0 n9 F7 _7 l0 s Into a dueling force of action and reaction
( `% K% z# C. E- z  ` Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
9 M* `: [. g! R Feeling small and insignificant
7 h6 X5 a+ h5 I, B. K% w' x But ultimately recognizing
+ ]/ h. V, T0 R* F0 f That who we are meant to be
# }( g4 ?! _9 O9 {+ s9 l9 Y Can never be measured in isolation
( X4 D, r; o8 q. {3 L+ C on a path into ourselves.

  D" {- W' H2 i: b9 |% Z( o It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
9 U6 w! b3 h. ^  s- Q6 } that leave unique mark on our world
+ m7 M) c; r  M! [" M, d  Q Not because of thoughts
1 P1 Q, a- T; h not because of well meaning plans
. @9 s, `3 \3 G& f& F3 D But because of actions.
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$ D) A' H! W. i# y Our life's prayers our answered
2 S2 R* U+ [1 e% {7 O' n. | Because even the smallest pebble
, B6 B& N3 u- @! P/ h- C6 W( Q No matter how seemingly insignificant
" {, m$ D$ \/ f Changes the course of the lives
, l) K2 p9 m2 B. t/ g: U1 @" _1 n Of those we touch.?
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1 C) b" u% ^8 ]- D And when the icy winds of death
; w  v' i! s9 k6 A beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
2 b9 ?4 p( \7 X6 T because of that one pebble
2 E0 q0 t) J& j0 M; b3 Z/ v The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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1 l6 h8 ?9 G  P7 g Ross Rosenberg
& x! ?" L; i3 Y7 R; H1 J9 `7 W1 {( z+ M 8/18/03