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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Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
) g: |3 P' q& I0 `- P0 T3 v Made small over time
9 z6 ?% o$ A/ m6 G: ]) R 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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0 a% y" [8 ?; ^# s% j The pebble's place in our world
! n3 p9 v2 w) m" C, ~7 A- E# [ Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 C( o& e, |  L, \) q+ B9 ^* ] Its insignificance is transformed
( J8 Y3 x/ `, k  O) g9 W- _+ y Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

: R9 l. B% ?: p& L: j# Z! a/ m The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
+ |$ e% J9 l$ J" r4 a3 ` Spiral outwards
2 i0 {: `1 K6 r0 U- k Moving far beyond itself.
5 C, @) X5 E& q+ g( e& |- O Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
5 u: Z' x% L  r. j1 n  J Into a dueling force of action and reaction
  I, r! B) n* s5 p Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
; T( t) G3 {# S+ C: {' J Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
& w4 w* d" ]+ W' c on a path into ourselves.
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7 ?* Z2 ~. G7 h It is true then:
4 k6 [* ?! d/ \6 d" @8 l8 L' j Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
2 U! L& k, P3 O% Y* }5 H( f! Y0 e. y Creating ripples
0 f( E( N# f8 O5 z3 p7 U6 j 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
6 D2 P# E$ H- E7 S5 l9 j0 F Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
! M3 b, C9 I8 |6 e9 \4 V7 k Of those we touch.?
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- a# D/ V; _- O8 s* n& i7 |9 _8 v And when the icy winds of death
6 r3 G, Z' |  {1 p beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
$ Z* T7 u& q3 l3 X7 n8 M% Z) N With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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& r9 q4 m* N1 U, V And then we have heaven …

, G* K% J, @/ o- n/ L! N% g8 x. p Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03