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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( }4 D$ U: Q. y! f& ]5 o% r- _% P8 A 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.

  G+ m8 R" f9 w0 O, o Heaven
% \" _1 t2 B4 b- T# P6 H& d" } The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
/ M2 C2 D7 J  m- O A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
7 B! R2 ?7 e4 [5 i1 c6 n: H' [7 x A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
& e! H6 X* j, d- B& T' v An accidental offspring of a boulder
( c2 F. j. ?6 }+ m But just a very small stone.

8 J6 t0 W9 U+ r! T8 `+ {* m) A7 A The pebble's place in our world
1 x; c) N5 n) A 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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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
# E! Q6 p% X( G8 T( U Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
$ Y6 m! a) i9 n' |: V" D Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
2 r; q6 F& v) S' A Into a dueling force of action and reaction
2 H( R' [: m2 m2 @4 y Creating karmic energy
' t/ U; q  q7 L) N, t' @4 l" Y Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

6 r$ p) e$ N# N- ^0 y* t; @ 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
# d, @, v7 E$ f# C 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
0 C5 V/ P7 V8 ^+ M8 b* @( q that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
# t2 X/ l/ Y3 o* I5 |7 K( A3 W6 z
4 L3 _. ?. m9 ?' e( _ Our life's prayers our answered
& X& l( i# m; H+ Q) W$ x) C Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
! `  ?; C* W; _8 r6 U Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
  A/ j. D8 J8 |( ]- R7 M7 @" F beckon our lasting attention
; e% y/ q0 r) \* ~$ |+ z: u We will gently leave this life
# O3 G* u3 S9 f( s4 y With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
( H& P- O0 [/ |8 K/ T% U
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03