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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2 ?  q6 i" u' c4 X0 p) o: _2 C& {3 r 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
Made small over time
) R1 b$ z" ^9 F  ~/ q2 o: F8 } A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
* ^  X1 b5 c# A% t- o4 a" O A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
4 a" o# ?5 z6 T$ \+ P6 T An accidental offspring of a boulder
+ t$ R6 |7 `$ I+ o/ h& ~ But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
/ T: x" I$ a8 j7 g$ Z: _. y Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
* N! D: X6 J" \5 T4 z# f8 j% N Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

+ o# G7 q. @# X& {$ O1 i$ k" L The instant the pebble kisses the pond
/ _& H* j1 b/ M1 H; z# W Its signature of concentric ripples
+ `- ]3 |5 g! h2 \( \" F! F" T% h Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
+ x0 Z5 B. ?5 k Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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; `; r/ ^" p  e& V' G The pebble creates its worth and meaning
2 K2 r$ m  H( j" J3 I# T By unleashing its unimagined power?
* b" T2 C! Y8 K1 E9 W Into a dueling force of action and reaction
0 f( L6 a, _, p% G Creating karmic energy
. C* n& O7 V, R: f% s Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
( c8 N) f/ Z7 z8 m0 Q3 o6 ` Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
. D' o" ?( p" b Can never be measured in isolation
) u$ L5 v( u  z, I7 g5 g on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
+ i, W2 ?0 `$ K1 z9 X( Y Into the pond of life
4 m- s8 D5 I- L2 x Creating ripples
( r: B: k' D! }6 w0 Y! x6 \- ~ that leave unique mark on our world
% \- v' m0 c4 \ Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
! w+ P6 B/ [8 h3 I7 V No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

. t( R% H4 L% T; A6 O$ m  I" x4 C+ S And when the icy winds of death
' v( C$ g" F- A" R beckon our lasting attention
3 ?, F. a7 B/ \ We will gently leave this life
! H3 a7 @* J( ~. {- t8 l With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
, P9 U! L. s. b5 Y6 M The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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% k9 z' Y' t- E$ Z& _8 o Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03