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
3 u" ?% E, P+ t9 N The pebble is worn smooth
) g3 Z. z- n4 X2 }; s# _. p8 [ Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 h3 n: i; B) I7 G+ P' [8 a& _ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
+ R8 o+ H" u! D" M6 K; ?3 ^ But just a very small stone.
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' M) B5 B  b3 O( _, o2 d8 L& J The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
0 {1 s" q# d4 k5 S/ h, d But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
2 N- K/ x2 k) M4 d. t Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
& l4 A% s$ b7 c/ _ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
; G# {! W2 \; y( d/ d Gently affecting everything in its wake
% j! g, }* p/ U6 @* h4 W, W, ] Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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/ p1 `  U8 }+ t/ l Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
3 T' Y0 E1 Q6 p! X" g- E* @ Can never be measured in isolation
5 A9 r8 [, A9 Y7 f4 J9 \' C# @ on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
# T+ K; T6 b7 d2 K% Z( a' J that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
" l7 E. g' Z) a# S1 u" i, Z not because of well meaning plans
0 |3 s; _" Z0 R$ Q' H2 v/ ]9 p But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
3 X# `- [- b2 ]6 c! Q' [ No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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: t* \" {$ V7 c* T2 K) } And when the icy winds of death
* C2 D) s4 ?8 `4 x* c5 M/ a2 X beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
3 h- [! {6 n0 m5 S because of that one pebble
; D( l+ Z% k: L6 m. U4 I/ \* w The world will never be the same.

- P+ n# D% t5 Z* ~) D  E1 c% Q And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
: S% W' P! c6 {5 `$ n3 X 8/18/03