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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1 q; O# q7 U5 }! f 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
3 T" P) o2 r' x# k8 ^6 j; V+ Y The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
( n: {' L6 s3 Q1 K+ V# i3 c A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
- ?% Z4 b+ s. Z An accidental offspring of a boulder
9 E& ~9 R8 f: r3 s" c1 q But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
$ u4 F( b! _6 E  i. C* `$ L2 Y But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
$ z5 J) a5 ^0 h' B8 K4 i Its insignificance is transformed
  z" h  \/ z: w7 P Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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1 c* _  w  k" N2 z, y5 s( ^, [ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
: S  g+ L) C6 m( n$ I Spiral outwards
. _# \1 a) u& U  n9 E Moving far beyond itself.
# ]) E/ S; R: F- P7 @0 C# e Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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; P4 C0 g0 y1 W  X; b! `6 d( I5 u; T The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( K; @) |% z7 j7 o7 Z/ L By unleashing its unimagined power?
% @4 ?6 Q$ A1 N4 x Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

8 L5 p$ c& ^! M" F Aren't we all pebbles?
+ d& i) {% v; p3 W) J: ^ Feeling small and insignificant
; |, z4 D0 V5 b: t3 E: c# I But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
; C* n7 h% E, D Into the pond of life
4 I# k- P) [0 ]9 S Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
9 o0 E! m2 r# z# q Not because of thoughts
$ K( g3 c2 q: `) g) T3 c" J& G not because of well meaning plans
# P, d/ w: Y) l6 S8 g But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
: g: c7 n, Z0 f6 e1 l4 b Because even the smallest pebble
; F2 j% ]" V) U7 N/ j8 t No matter how seemingly insignificant
$ O* K, [/ b5 B# ] Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

8 {/ _' t/ G3 S, z9 [ And when the icy winds of death
7 l3 N& n3 N9 H) t beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
1 k- y1 Q9 N4 ?& L5 h The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

: s& |; R. w# T( I# t Ross Rosenberg
0 G9 w0 m4 H( B8 d 8/18/03