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.
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) ^/ j/ v0 u) ? Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
; T# p: ^( u0 i$ b* I; b7 ~! u Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
5 j! {; o" p* r# h  o Its insignificance is transformed
% G( v. Q# {* ]- @0 W; `/ o3 _ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

8 x: z& w* N5 A- w The instant the pebble kisses the pond
* W! @7 q( p6 h1 z. {/ V" u Its signature of concentric ripples
# a" x% K" E0 R" y" _  v Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
) m/ h0 f, D8 _' X! ~3 {  } Gently affecting everything in its wake
; y2 v# f6 A8 j' f) W Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
. \, m- |3 ^9 V$ x0 b; p+ b2 s) f/ m" T By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
5 K1 v! [8 U$ G" i7 }( B+ |8 k Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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8 c$ e+ H# c. S! C# K) l Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
# H0 K+ p6 c% |, Q# m/ v2 V But ultimately recognizing
- Z% r9 l  o: F0 B  ^8 q8 H That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
# S# I2 g+ h8 L: c8 v. N" P: U on a path into ourselves.

6 g! ~+ ?, z- c8 Z* h It is true then:
" r. |! U3 K- J Our everlasting future
6 I! L1 x# F( l2 H; O1 @) f Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
9 T7 }3 ?1 y* p" ^ Into the pond of life
) \1 R& Y8 {9 n/ q Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
+ ]( N/ t$ x; w# P  T. L Not because of thoughts
& h1 A5 f, P" Z& z 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
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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- Q, |7 j( p- B& O And when the icy winds of death
5 C+ |: y) l* x- j1 y' [' v6 X4 g9 E beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
3 D3 d2 j: B; W9 Q( [6 x The world will never be the same.
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% D! F2 N# H3 _) v' r% q1 q And then we have heaven …

% b# S/ q3 l' j0 w7 \5 k8 } Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03