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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3 X% M4 T* N9 L2 o, \0 u+ d 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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. ^. u$ w( X+ Y1 N0 b4 A Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
" d* J$ B- {. O5 m" p1 B* b; B# g  i8 q2 } A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
/ J8 \6 I) v; z. n& G An accidental offspring of a boulder
6 Q. B# b8 I* l9 l But just a very small stone.

% A2 r: |1 ?. u* y The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
6 `1 J( v" y4 x( J But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
( k# C. y$ ?# P( v: S Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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0 Y' V: q+ {0 n9 T$ l" A" {8 H The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
6 N, q" m; I$ F Spiral outwards
9 J* P3 y4 P$ }: T) z Moving far beyond itself.
0 Z7 e, K" @) G% t8 `6 p, D Gently affecting everything in its wake
" d) ]/ X( U* E+ z& N1 V& Q( V Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

% X  ]$ K7 O  q' b! o! k The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
- M. n, _) T, J8 M2 [* f  y. P Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
$ p* e- w2 x& d; _ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

. K: B+ O6 u8 b& l9 f9 G It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
& W4 E' Z; e& O, \2 H, f Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
) g/ C1 u5 o( o, t( N, g0 b( Z that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
  ^9 @! |" K( r3 @/ `0 ` not because of well meaning plans
' E8 G+ u- J1 e+ T3 h But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
- Z+ @5 |) R9 E. j$ W* Z! z No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
9 S& o& \# r0 h4 r3 Z$ D) X Of those we touch.?

5 p  }' {3 w( v And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
7 w- [2 i2 q! I We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
" D8 [& _( _* |0 u The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
* M" T1 ]. c, X3 B2 v 8/18/03