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.
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7 Z0 O% }( e1 z' m$ B1 w+ C Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
* A8 e& [5 S9 @- r Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
9 o- ?9 z, C: C* X 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
3 o) t: ?* n2 n3 @ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
5 Q. [& V  ^" F( J  G* o6 I6 k Gently affecting everything in its wake
; k6 Z) J9 _0 g" [) v Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
5 i+ R2 @9 m- V" `) R, w* V By unleashing its unimagined power?
" b9 G3 w" Y+ v; X1 y Into a dueling force of action and reaction
9 j; |7 ^8 h. p- |& t* [ Creating karmic energy
' f! i  U% h; o- p) j Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
% J* f0 N9 x/ _ Feeling small and insignificant
5 b& l4 F, a+ q; \/ K/ I0 U- | But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
) p: g9 M9 m! E. p8 m& }( T Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
- L8 N- q+ I: U# Q( P Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
- R# d% T8 {9 p that leave unique mark on our world
  f/ n- v0 }  n5 Z/ ]: c2 M3 ]4 s Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

4 B/ _3 V3 e% z; ^) i1 x& I Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
# R  g5 N- S4 b9 h7 r* i Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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+ \" T: G( `+ ]! P/ U) E And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
9 i! r! I1 N1 v/ C7 I9 M/ {: b because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
3 Q' z/ C" O1 S) D" t' M0 `/ G 8/18/03