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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6 }) b) H0 e4 ~+ `% q' 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.
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+ Y& U' q& ]7 o9 D9 [7 W( P8 m7 A Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
  m; f) q. X, w, ]/ ? Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
( ?  Z4 S  Q, x6 C  T A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
' z" r3 u+ F. m2 y0 \8 H But just a very small stone.
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5 u+ B( Z- \* _" l6 H6 l* J' M6 R The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
* n- o8 T/ R5 B( h5 Q  @8 ] But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
: K4 v8 p# T/ k$ i3 |" K Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
+ N" j3 T) |+ y3 K4 ]& \+ m Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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% ^( P* u) F; M, B" r0 O) k The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
7 O. j9 W, P! Z Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
2 b* C7 O7 z" e8 |+ ~% ~  B! }1 ^ on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
1 G, @1 [! j3 i Our everlasting future
& l- [, }+ {& n- l$ V Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
* J& [$ X' T# p& ~7 w Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
; N$ ~' w. l+ {% v. F6 l Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
7 i" ~% S* H3 Z: q But because of actions.

9 |% t5 R* r5 t Our life's prayers our answered
* Z7 {+ |. F* q" s3 d% }2 {# B Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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) _3 P" @7 D. X And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
) E& N9 C$ O5 k# L2 R, }  G: n With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

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