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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, J) q, ^: c/ ]7 V& w Heaven
2 k; S# a' S8 b& l9 \ The pebble is worn smooth
8 u8 v# e& k9 z. Q 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
1 M0 \1 w8 c( Q. c. w+ ~9 Z But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
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
& T  k) o6 b9 J% d Its signature of concentric ripples
2 D! a0 H7 a$ @7 ]0 F Spiral outwards
$ _- L" b4 [2 p, a" |2 e( ]  ^ Moving far beyond itself.
( y4 a' o* ]! o Gently affecting everything in its wake
! p# S: V* q% F8 y& X Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

. J) e2 `# q8 Y4 D: t2 |% I, N The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
( d' `8 [- |  M" d6 E+ N Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

6 i' |2 i9 z8 T Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
# R- L9 z. |' X7 l" A* Y7 @" | Our everlasting future
& N2 ?, l+ c/ s$ } Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
% P  u5 ^. L6 z$ V1 d( p4 u Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
' I7 h+ S; R/ y- E Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
  p) t0 Z8 E9 |. w No matter how seemingly insignificant
6 V$ K  [& z8 R3 k4 Q- B Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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# x% X0 `& E; T/ O And when the icy winds of death
, c8 L3 H* s& U/ {! W beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
4 M3 w8 _$ N: w With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
) E/ n% u/ q2 |+ W; ~8 g; y3 v" L9 w The world will never be the same.
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) G* @7 }/ Z' f+ @" o And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
* [# q0 Z+ P* E% u 8/18/03