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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5 N) b, H. V% x4 Z2 B2 B 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
3 m' |/ B8 m4 P, a  f1 Y Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
8 f6 p2 {2 o- U A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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$ B4 b( u) i! _2 W  } 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.

9 G, U, w! u7 }) K7 J+ B The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
) Q* U2 I4 H# Q1 Y( @8 z# y4 L# ` Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
2 v% w! b1 g% m" b2 I Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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8 w! c2 V6 F( T/ E- E. X# P Aren't we all pebbles?
$ j, \8 C0 C  q1 [, {2 Z Feeling small and insignificant
" `0 ]1 p2 v5 L: g& s8 v! L/ w  M But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
9 p" S. d1 ~& Y5 w  n) P Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
# U" n* r* Q1 R! R that leave unique mark on our world
2 p$ w3 N. x; \/ N: Y Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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  Y2 [1 T# S$ j1 p% M: D% e Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
% ?$ G1 J& r+ @2 i1 f No matter how seemingly insignificant
& d( B: s: {  s7 y 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
3 o' L, V7 R6 Q With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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/ @& X* \- Y- `& t And then we have heaven …

4 _$ A- @4 z( {, p- v( R Ross Rosenberg
( N# l) ?- F; ?/ |7 @* e6 i: L 8/18/03