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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- y% X, S# I# T. I. s( @+ i5 e5 K 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
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.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
7 B3 u6 u  n( Y 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
) D$ F: x- J9 [+ i, h! R Its signature of concentric ripples
  s7 c- [+ y9 Q* a/ f Spiral outwards
( M. @! d" g6 h Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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; |1 X# ]6 J0 j  j* { The pebble creates its worth and meaning
4 l7 w; J6 C/ I0 ~ By unleashing its unimagined power?
5 S, k5 N$ }; ]% j Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

) c5 U( e9 o1 _2 O4 M4 m Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
7 ]! \" z- f- m; E! |! n" M+ S That who we are meant to be
, ?9 B& N3 G" N3 ~ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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6 x1 l4 H) j, R It is true then:
! r7 p) S3 ]: A% Z, |9 c: Z Our everlasting future
  F- A& G  \( X: A3 m- r& S Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
' W& w* u, Q( i5 j& j$ x that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
4 T7 j% @5 X& i+ z. _1 g/ K not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

7 ^* B3 `' y+ ?; L Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
4 t; i# x% F* s/ G. f5 { Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
3 K( r1 T- B4 z5 ~- X/ b3 Y We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
  |9 R# X7 ]' K2 a because of that one pebble
; I9 u7 {1 v; ]' m  f! Q# ] The world will never be the same.
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1 M; P2 [' Z- {4 N& l And then we have heaven …

/ h, p5 ^3 |3 H Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03