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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8 M& ]7 e, V! g5 i2 C' m 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.

8 J6 e& p: b$ f; O- J4 } Heaven
' P* e% W: n7 J3 s4 |9 E7 f4 X The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
- ^% T3 U4 w5 D A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
* V6 x% G9 _' Z: [ An accidental offspring of a boulder
0 h2 w2 T( M9 U$ ?- D But just a very small stone.
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! ]$ C% @6 y3 M% {+ B" n# g$ b The pebble's place in our world
" Q- [) a; w/ ]; q7 m, D/ J Is neither understood nor appreciated
  e& m; y2 U2 n; E! ^& y9 \  G6 V But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

5 `3 r3 m2 C2 R$ C' T$ Z The instant the pebble kisses the pond
9 H: b8 ~% N( H0 O: {7 S* ]9 Z% F Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
2 \5 h' g2 {  N, {* { Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
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
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
/ U' g3 V0 q7 Z5 s( u( ` That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ a7 a! E/ C+ ?9 V3 p Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
3 K7 X1 `; A2 f that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

8 [, L3 C2 p" e1 [. l5 V* k# W. W Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
$ q2 n+ d- M& w8 l beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
- g7 e$ M' G' f6 k7 [) ~ With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
# a1 {: F# _% ~! ^ The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

7 D, I/ u# v0 W3 r Ross Rosenberg
, j6 g; J/ F" ~3 F( d5 d 8/18/03