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
$ N8 ?+ B# N& L Made small over time
9 K: S; ]' T' e1 f, |) _9 w A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
/ q7 k2 ]4 h/ q8 w9 V) L: B% F# z6 ? An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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$ Y5 h3 M$ R. s The pebble's place in our world
0 c: b# U8 ?, O" j9 K' m8 r Is neither understood nor appreciated
: U1 p/ \* `$ U+ d But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
1 e% W) i( [) A. n# B! V Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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2 o' i6 T( |5 K. G* ?, k2 m The instant the pebble kisses the pond
4 t+ m/ J# \  x Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
2 N* O8 R! Y4 B- Q& j Gently affecting everything in its wake
& O% X* Z) V5 k$ R$ u, f7 i Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
3 H9 n1 F2 z% U By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
/ M5 S" K! }/ X5 ]4 i Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
: \1 u4 k+ t6 T9 D Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
7 F5 l# |7 |7 u9 a' d. E; P  q  }9 ^ on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
2 p8 n  P" _8 H9 e" g6 ]2 O/ q9 a Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
% g' t; ?  R9 l7 k, S not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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' @! l* r& y# ?) ]# }2 _  m Our life's prayers our answered
- ~* e3 [/ \; b, C: x0 j Because even the smallest pebble
3 l( _- T  u5 T No matter how seemingly insignificant
; p: J! n" |( Y4 T* Y# r- ]% W2 Y Changes the course of the lives
% |# f' B+ ~  d# X. m4 {+ l) c Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
+ d8 S) E$ D' N5 h3 L1 L! B) q8 | beckon our lasting attention
5 Z2 I( o- x. @ We will gently leave this life
- F: g: m' J, v) L5 J4 [# g With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
3 ^# I. c3 z0 ]1 v* f The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
. V, G1 K4 G5 `* d 8/18/03