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
The pebble is worn smooth
; D( X. C- C1 h Made small over time
% m$ t. F1 }# B3 z' |4 _/ ] A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
: ^( M8 R8 T- d9 A5 ^ 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
6 d$ {: G8 u" o' z: ?, w, C- H But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
+ j0 Z- X1 W& J( W  F, k- K Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

+ H1 f8 G" e3 M: }7 L  W The instant the pebble kisses the pond
8 b1 c0 B1 `' K& J( o- i+ d  i' C$ y Its signature of concentric ripples
$ n. n: @$ K6 k' p% K( u- V Spiral outwards
1 {4 C+ O# w" v) ?& B Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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, I$ H6 m% i* |1 q! I The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
1 h% X; X( B& |$ z+ A5 h3 ?$ Z+ P, H Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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, P- r( W1 _( B; }: c Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
9 m) Z/ i% z/ k# G% B, w$ B But ultimately recognizing
- s' ~, W- x8 \% v/ M That who we are meant to be
3 c& o0 H; ~/ e% x, } Can never be measured in isolation
2 G8 ?8 ]3 z2 m3 R- T( b on a path into ourselves.
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6 E, f& ~! q5 V# r. U, Z" S It is true then:
& }4 U  J4 X  r6 A, i Our everlasting future
: `* G; g" e0 i' G- n1 {0 y Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
2 p# i2 _: x7 u: Q that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
" G6 `! W6 }, v; _: K+ s' z/ s not because of well meaning plans
! x0 f0 N8 ]$ X; p8 A$ Y/ e But because of actions.
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5 n. P( t! S) k) X7 a. j1 H Our life's prayers our answered
+ N+ n+ _+ D3 d% h( V Because even the smallest pebble
1 A* m) w* |# I& F* {  d No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
8 E3 o0 A) P, B( ?1 N0 d$ o Of those we touch.?

# c# d! i1 c) S3 g And when the icy winds of death
0 a2 p9 E& H1 `* I6 ~ beckon our lasting attention
8 Y% u: t, t) U- M7 u3 ~* v; A We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

! ~+ v2 w& J4 I) L7 ?5 h' Q# G2 f And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
1 Z& `7 r8 G. j 8/18/03