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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8 B( H! Y" T. Y& ?0 \! X Heaven
! i4 ^7 z( v% F* e0 Z The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
+ e, Q& ~+ y/ u% z) W2 |& K; G2 | A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
& s* g$ q! r. r3 }! _ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
) K4 W/ x# O! S/ c% C! I An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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" ^! S. K3 ^1 l8 o) k* b1 G6 G& c& R The pebble's place in our world
6 b# n$ a8 F0 K# J7 I& f. M5 G Is neither understood nor appreciated
- k- c$ a- u9 }2 q2 d, t  F0 k3 {% I 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
Its signature of concentric ripples
- N6 x& h4 R  U, v3 a' B Spiral outwards
% H% l8 R8 t, x* K& j) ?+ p Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
9 [7 a' u' D. g6 e( `$ T* ~- e* M Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
8 Y. ]3 l% B) X Into a dueling force of action and reaction
0 z8 |( q; U* F/ o- P# E Creating karmic energy
! O+ |; x( t- D4 r- d' a Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

& ?5 V* t1 B/ V* M Aren't we all pebbles?
2 h7 H$ K& d' v' y Feeling small and insignificant
. q. g" A( Q/ ?/ r' j2 v4 | But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
. k: |/ h! {0 [ Can never be measured in isolation
+ R% ]+ p6 [/ X2 c% o on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
; H) X! R# o$ I7 i; L( X Our everlasting future
/ o% N# i7 j8 }' M0 W Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
$ i% f! O! k- t* E' Z Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
( R' L# J, v3 n1 E' c% e' U2 B Because even the smallest pebble
: U$ w( C3 f3 d/ l  _ No matter how seemingly insignificant
1 a' o3 {- f9 J1 w Changes the course of the lives
9 I9 T% }, i- o5 H Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
  \) `% c) |" R) ]& i because of that one pebble
7 h' r, K, o+ z The world will never be the same.

3 C8 Q+ a8 S; F. E* p And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
  j& j9 |, j' V  P& _) E 8/18/03