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.
" A7 ?$ k5 \/ t+ _3 H3 k
9 k8 x2 H- m  g$ x 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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Heaven
9 P$ [$ p6 m2 k, t& a' c The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
* K1 h+ s, D+ h/ ]& H A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

* \2 @6 Y# |4 ?& p! y' T The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
) K# H. S/ k0 H1 q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
/ N. e' e4 E5 @" J6 ] Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
# N6 h, B; L7 t" P: F) F Gently affecting everything in its wake
, X" n: g4 b# {% ~3 ]8 V Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

- t, L  X; G' w' g9 N8 ? The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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2 x; j2 @% j, v6 \7 j Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
7 @3 |( \; A3 G$ d1 I, l. m( ^ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
! f# _5 M: p9 T7 B2 M5 w8 d# G on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
1 G. i/ \% E, D& p$ f5 @8 v Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
# P$ w: \' C4 N, Q( Y Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
8 d5 t# c( I! a7 D% | not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
  ~7 o: d+ t; p  I# _ Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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4 x6 C! R2 b( k And when the icy winds of death
$ T+ [" M8 b! @* U. v' q$ E) n beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
$ _0 _) O/ {1 p  C With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
/ c9 P- I8 a5 z* l; s1 M The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03