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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4 A, z& r& W7 t& ` 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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Heaven
: G. i* l+ o/ F. u# }( @  O The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
( T4 _8 C- Q  F/ }% c1 O/ [3 i A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
  i4 w- Q5 n+ a: [% |. e" u/ D8 W An accidental offspring of a boulder
. I2 L) `( R3 K' ]5 W# \ But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
( y! Y5 v  X# T# a1 h6 ]+ d" q Is neither understood nor appreciated
! M" x3 E' T3 c2 o4 [ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
, i7 \( s) Q' M! \ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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3 l5 ^+ B5 |/ T( V The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
8 U( p& e5 v# ]1 q: p6 [- x Moving far beyond itself.
9 Y" r* I6 }0 y, I" L Gently affecting everything in its wake
* ?7 E) g: d, o; g% {, g: z+ J Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( g% n0 B7 |' L; z" m( [( U By unleashing its unimagined power?
" D9 X+ T8 B2 [$ O  U Into a dueling force of action and reaction
' J( R& A* ]6 O; [( m Creating karmic energy
7 y0 _( V0 o* C Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

  i6 y$ E7 |) r  o4 r* X$ ^$ O Aren't we all pebbles?
; l0 K4 Y$ r4 ]" V( ] Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
! r% \8 O2 B* x) R1 i on a path into ourselves.

5 q& T& |; T5 q5 V; A# E It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
0 t  M9 j, N7 J  I/ ]  X Into the pond of life
- s! X+ i  m  c6 Z* z' \) H+ M Creating ripples
) q. T6 t9 v) i' r' U- S2 ~8 m that leave unique mark on our world
5 T% Z0 T8 |- a Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
0 q9 q# t- v2 u, ?, K  G% C But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
5 D1 Q; X/ E  u/ ^ Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
. a3 p6 E4 M" Q! F' ]+ h% D1 o( e With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
  G9 F7 ]0 m. ?: @! _3 } The world will never be the same.
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/ d' w% I- R; G1 h And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03