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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7 Y% o1 ?* D! z/ R8 C Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
4 ]; O" {) y2 Z! k, j Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
$ W5 y- p8 Z( E* L( B) p A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
9 q5 K" u  \; Y1 c% w! U4 O% K 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
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

" E2 N0 L  n; w( m  i0 ]* M The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
0 u0 Z! y4 u% U4 v4 _) T! N+ T' h Spiral outwards
3 s( ?( h$ M4 A, |# g3 | Moving far beyond itself.
- O+ l' G0 c/ Y, H Gently affecting everything in its wake
' U+ k7 v: `# e) \$ L' I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
! d1 q& P$ s% E# h0 W: \3 ~: j4 } Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
& _. s7 [7 V7 V Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

0 r0 L+ L* H5 A: @# B. { It is true then:
Our everlasting future
% C, ^+ q. K& [8 @ Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
3 ]$ E: c! ]7 `' l5 X4 J# b& c Creating ripples
( ]; D6 A2 K7 O, z4 `- s) X that leave unique mark on our world
5 [/ h3 K$ h% w; j- n. r$ i( X7 t. N Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
8 r$ w. |9 a6 x0 q: Q2 P1 X( W But because of actions.
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  G/ Y- @; v" A( Q Our life's prayers our answered
& m. `  F- t8 p9 R& k6 Y; ` Because even the smallest pebble
/ V% h; H  @) S, R: R4 S3 I No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
, r9 M0 }! o+ @. b Of those we touch.?

1 ]: i  z3 d, O( X# P% H And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
- k2 I: o! ]5 p$ E+ s We will gently leave this life
/ q# B2 i# j: y5 N With the knowledge that
% }$ j8 n/ d4 d6 g because of that one pebble
0 i( f9 G- r0 ~& |, C+ H The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03