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
The pebble is worn smooth
* V& }/ I. `, x# L: x Made small over time
' G$ ?# r: z  h0 L$ }2 C$ }( A A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
# e0 w% ^! Z# p. I A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
% |$ `$ M/ v) U; ~: z But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
# W  Y  f3 B& I Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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) }& p7 z  {0 o! w The instant the pebble kisses the pond
+ H/ X' x% J7 j- l2 L& P% E Its signature of concentric ripples
0 q9 G  n; M; b1 j& [ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
; Z, @3 h: H1 q Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
3 N& }- X6 v4 T) P# U1 H Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
' {: I- c5 G6 C- [9 \4 p: P Feeling small and insignificant
8 ]+ `+ v/ v3 V But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
, a5 Y3 O& `4 U on a path into ourselves.

! |3 ^& Q! T% V& f, B, ^, Y It is true then:
Our everlasting future
/ s  g9 \) Y2 Z5 I; T& C Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
, n7 ]: C: I8 Y4 t% ~5 c# }# h Creating ripples
- N4 F; K4 }* N* H4 ]$ }4 I: H that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
4 x) C7 K$ ?; F not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
8 b* ^  L: |( D- f Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
/ {, ~% P, w, e8 |7 v9 E: a Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

- z8 f+ n- B. j2 ^1 a And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
8 H* r4 z* a* D7 p! @7 D We will gently leave this life
8 _5 E/ A, ~$ W! l$ t  t7 D0 z7 C With the knowledge that
- |& w1 T2 O1 u" l  J because of that one pebble
4 _& i6 X0 Z/ T; }: A/ [1 {( Q, H The world will never be the same.

! P2 u  Q+ y6 ?% ] And then we have heaven …
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3 v$ _& `, S5 P: y" { Ross Rosenberg
& `6 k$ o$ f3 q" h 8/18/03