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.

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
The pebble is worn smooth
7 E; K% U" ?$ V* u  X) [  r0 | Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
/ D9 N' C5 C" J- n- T An accidental offspring of a boulder
6 d2 w1 D' ^' P2 a# e. y- |  G0 X But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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4 U; T% y1 \) U1 U The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
$ Y/ J* x8 V7 m! L1 R, [8 f& w Spiral outwards
* `  v, q# k. H- O Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
" ?1 u& W6 d1 a' X; V Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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$ d6 L: j6 y0 L# u2 q+ E The pebble creates its worth and meaning
; r, k6 v3 @# o6 F8 w" v9 C, _3 ^ By unleashing its unimagined power?
  \7 s* A+ B7 t$ P# W5 u Into a dueling force of action and reaction
7 k( n, Q* k% }! @; [ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

5 C3 L- N; l0 q8 m Aren't we all pebbles?
; [6 e% Z- U) A8 m Feeling small and insignificant
; S" |+ S. V+ ~* T9 }8 i, X; L* v But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
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
that leave unique mark on our world
; ^8 m% {0 R5 A Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
. T( j" V7 u( Z, a3 [5 a But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
# b1 H9 \& }' [5 V6 }$ z# {* \- _! Y2 e Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

2 I+ ~; S/ }7 M5 U% F. l9 u4 N% o And when the icy winds of death
# M) p9 [8 G) B0 @- N* W1 l' e beckon our lasting attention
$ G3 R* O& W1 q6 _6 G$ M3 z" E We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
1 B9 h2 B3 ~$ |1 T5 z* E because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

' Z: W3 ?, f7 J  \0 \+ e  Y0 a Ross Rosenberg
9 |0 O6 P" D+ V0 p* A& t; \ 8/18/03