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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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.

Heaven
  A( s4 d) I8 x4 i5 {7 @3 S6 s The pebble is worn smooth
- D& z1 K* E' y4 e Made small over time
$ V% v4 A5 q4 i5 _" B0 k, S A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
* V% G! `* v: Y( g! x' }& I5 { But just a very small stone.
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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.

+ m, m- M; ?, r( T' U The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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9 s: ?1 I+ H" b( v The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
" y$ q3 F! I: V$ m4 b& G Creating karmic energy
+ [7 d& L7 N2 T* u- X( L- p2 b, { Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

1 Q3 p4 w9 ?3 s5 O Aren't we all pebbles?
! @- y/ e* ^" _: U* j% o8 U* e$ Z Feeling small and insignificant
$ `9 H2 W2 A/ _! D8 m2 B: | But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
5 K) X. M+ J) x' V Our everlasting future
8 l% W1 v% r6 l6 K0 k Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
  q0 ~  |$ i6 x9 |" Y1 ~ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
- U8 I0 L3 S, `# L+ z- P4 q that leave unique mark on our world
; l6 u" c/ b% d4 H( ]4 f Not because of thoughts
+ @. P2 A1 H& p9 ]! m" i not because of well meaning plans
7 j$ K7 x- r8 {: H, T* W But because of actions.
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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.?

9 n4 c& p6 `- g. H8 R  | And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
/ V7 g& {. Z. B$ K, X# J With the knowledge that
/ e; u( w7 M% q. r1 U! \ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

4 p8 M4 d3 F0 ]0 u Ross Rosenberg
$ E  n9 m, K* C 8/18/03