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
- n* X3 v) \0 } 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
! @, t9 [) a: c. g8 W2 v5 L Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
, W* o( d; G  F+ G6 D Its insignificance is transformed
  e' C+ x) a  V& P, v Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
  {: s4 n- w/ _8 D" }3 H Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
0 @2 X' @# {- t, G" E' W- U: i Moving far beyond itself.
* M) q, J# i% w" G, ] Gently affecting everything in its wake
, q0 E2 I$ y+ D5 Q% A/ n Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
. e: T7 R( f1 F' X- p4 j' {# {+ S Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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( k; w% J% x. {, E) e2 a) C5 p Aren't we all pebbles?
2 q) K+ Q7 |9 y2 n$ ~. Q; M Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
/ z  `& \' n& b+ F, X3 S5 y2 n0 v# @ on a path into ourselves.

2 W% y8 i% @0 X( o, T, g" b It is true then:
$ z8 c; R8 a! d2 l* w Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
2 Q' J% e+ f, y) [7 z: { Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
: _, a& }' J) e. {5 N Not because of thoughts
8 |1 p. f% ^0 C not because of well meaning plans
7 F* B3 w* b; ~7 r& Y But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
0 ?+ M, J# ~/ {& P; h$ F Because even the smallest pebble
3 u( a& c# {- l6 \4 o0 P4 z4 z+ F No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
  _/ ?$ A# K1 J2 e' t9 W4 { Of those we touch.?
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/ ?: ]7 \# L7 ]0 D" j: ` And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
# w! R2 G8 {  U& p With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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. `& G9 q( c4 k$ s* g& p And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03