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.

# y' M8 G8 q1 ~" O  o) G Heaven
" v7 u2 i3 t$ [0 }6 u The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
# [9 z& H6 l* a% m' a4 w/ y A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
1 D6 D  @  T8 j/ @# ?' I$ s A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
0 P# L$ M. W& D( d But just a very small stone.

$ S; i& `7 X9 {, o% p$ V% h; n The pebble's place in our world
0 x  E+ @2 b3 `0 _7 w% U Is neither understood nor appreciated
5 ~  I+ o$ |! @* O But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
" I+ n# w2 }+ R( }' t9 K Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

5 [4 v$ B" ^/ U The instant the pebble kisses the pond
  _. d# b5 u6 _; Y0 \9 u; n% B Its signature of concentric ripples
: i# e7 z7 h( ]* P) Z" p% L Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
2 q* \; R6 t% M2 l By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
' O6 ?- X0 \' U+ A Creating karmic energy
) g! u0 ~1 ]* X; m7 { Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
' }  H% A0 o/ Q+ s; k) Y% ^# U+ p
: `* d/ ]! o6 ?# H3 s# i Aren't we all pebbles?
0 j6 T: m& e: A* z- k9 Q) s. } Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
  \/ s  A. _1 e# _ on a path into ourselves.

  U( D! a# ]! k& i( V; R/ x/ j 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
/ e- G' ?- d2 M3 v# f9 J Not because of thoughts
1 M4 o! K- E# m; i  F0 g! V not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

; c" j9 h) E9 _. Y% p 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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' q- k0 j* v  o% { And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
. y+ a) Z# ?/ M1 v0 S: j* R We will gently leave this life
+ R5 J8 I+ }6 y$ r+ a1 f2 Y With the knowledge that
$ R5 T' p. V3 }# g because of that one pebble
6 {! j# z. L. @6 K: L) Z, Z The world will never be the same.

( i  p, g& q( k; d And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
& L$ M$ ?5 h. V8 }1 E8 d0 e! O, x 8/18/03