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
The pebble is worn smooth
/ i  u. W' E- c7 G6 U, g/ ~ Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: @  W) H5 C. N; r A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
( W- l! Y  j: _8 p+ w An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
: E, T# _2 f+ P' R7 u/ |( x Is neither understood nor appreciated
) d5 \7 a2 b2 ^ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
- _3 o3 O0 f- w* m% w Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
& m% |% o/ [: r' `9 S- S Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
7 m& c+ g, ?2 U! ]6 X4 O  { By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
$ a! i1 R4 n* U' _, o Creating karmic energy
2 B  }% u  `; c; f! a Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

" z' v6 g2 J1 j4 J3 t: x1 O- ?+ | Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
/ R) l# }# V  s4 g0 S2 J That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
7 ^, s" `0 {" a on a path into ourselves.
4 U' W9 @- p5 k3 F0 }# `
0 Z" S- s3 i- g8 I7 E- s( ^* J  x It is true then:
! V7 b+ B" Y) y- z2 X1 l0 n: c Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
1 W8 [0 _8 f+ G: f  J" X that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

, Z( h4 h: g; M3 Q9 o Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
3 H" n/ ?  Y: D No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
% n9 u) j9 O# ?1 Y! p beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
# p3 E' ~( W! j% J! f! v/ P because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
. U6 h$ W* {1 d4 V# l! g
4 Y+ c! M8 R( ? And then we have heaven …
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2 {$ W" J/ W; Y% K: S# x- w" | Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03