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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6 L+ }( ~% [( h; _4 F5 v# d1 f 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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% @: f" P7 B) z Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
8 s( T; K) [9 P$ C( L8 j A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
2 K6 J/ \! ?- ? A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
6 {! N1 I/ J# w% }. G+ q6 N: ^ An accidental offspring of a boulder
% X; V. g3 r$ l1 k7 |. K# g But just a very small stone.
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% t0 h# ~+ b+ C* P+ o# W. B The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' z( `' N" H: M' P4 _ Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
6 t% G  h* R) C: {; c3 @ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
9 P/ I/ Z! Y( B Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
" M- e0 y4 l# o4 v By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
( c* l2 K& x9 d. ]& s/ u Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
/ K4 A8 u4 j5 C+ Y on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
) K" T% |' c. |+ k6 f, n& S/ W3 s Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
8 @2 E& m% y* k) b% h3 r0 W Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
) |6 E5 z' Q+ `8 r+ R2 a that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
4 p: u% j* Q/ D  R Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

, p$ m# {& z+ J: X7 F And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
9 Q8 X  N/ ^& J3 u7 q1 P We will gently leave this life
7 |- D4 i# G% W With the knowledge that
/ S2 \# L6 }/ u0 J because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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2 C; U9 c8 x2 b. H And then we have heaven …

. e6 ?# u" `& \8 b, B' V Ross Rosenberg
$ r0 @9 u* w* S! B  ]5 K* B 8/18/03