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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5 Z5 y8 U" B  ^5 n7 A. X3 o+ E 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.

' V1 A; f/ R" {* y Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
  @! M: k4 e5 g9 S* d Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
/ n5 J" V& h' D* s( a2 a3 O$ B An accidental offspring of a boulder
+ Q3 w3 E3 f5 k+ `1 P) k" @ But just a very small stone.
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( p: j- e1 a, q  c. i* \: m The pebble's place in our world
) R1 z1 [( v! F5 n6 j" e Is neither understood nor appreciated
4 n, }/ n! d' S! g! W+ s! K9 t But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
& U9 _  P- {% `' [+ x Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
) G+ T  U2 y# ~0 I# i  | Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
  h7 B3 g; U# N* L2 f4 v Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
8 W5 F- O) v( J- U9 g& r; O By unleashing its unimagined power?
( q% ~4 `: b+ B8 ]! I. v Into a dueling force of action and reaction
4 p/ |7 E$ Y$ H7 `8 a  s/ F5 N3 b3 j Creating karmic energy
/ P" y. j" ^8 J/ t! F, W) s Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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# J* t# s* K$ R, ^ Aren't we all pebbles?
( B' x* l% m) ] Feeling small and insignificant
1 B  h7 m, r0 A2 t% p0 K' h5 h But ultimately recognizing
9 A. q/ Z& P) C5 h! J' Q, l% @: K5 S That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
. U  c" H( \7 ?$ {% |/ m Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ b* r7 y- d( A( j# d Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
& O: E6 I4 D: H+ N+ ^ that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
) u( L, |2 H6 A* N; _1 ] But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
1 g& i* c: A2 E8 p7 d9 c Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
8 K& f3 v# l8 O4 E Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
" Q; d- A# b% d We will gently leave this life
% z" ~8 h" ^5 P With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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& Z& b% ~# x" @$ |9 q And then we have heaven …

. G' V3 @4 O9 a# N- ~ Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03