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.

4 V2 f4 o$ H0 w( v; T; K 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
; {" \$ p4 g5 [* E5 B* D% D5 Z Made small over time
0 l8 @. c7 w5 t! I8 m9 N/ n/ z A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
% q9 W) [/ `; q6 F; t An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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- s- {8 J( V. K) A; I$ I8 I The pebble's place in our world
3 _; m6 h9 }3 W) ` Is neither understood nor appreciated
9 h% f) S7 D) W+ m But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
$ p) O7 z4 \8 e0 j( A, v! D Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

( u* y& G0 E8 G5 L: a The instant the pebble kisses the pond
! N, q1 U$ a" G6 H Its signature of concentric ripples
* T7 Y) p- ]2 h1 e" \& a Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
; R, ~, L' c+ k% ^ Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
9 b* k$ E& q& n' k( _( [" i; ` Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
4 w* ?0 ]6 P. S, }. ^ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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$ Y+ v5 z# }% e6 ?* g5 W. o: Y It is true then:
6 g/ [3 p: E4 f$ A+ g( V Our everlasting future
# `- }  V* H- A$ y6 e# k4 v; o Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) o" h6 `' ?7 _ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
. Q! Z; r' s* x$ {( D8 N that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
7 R$ y7 @8 Z3 |& t( S 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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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
+ p( T" \  Q  N, K The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
  H9 r: p7 U3 ]# K3 z8 }! w
! |, P! X" H& K  L! R% L8 C& G Ross Rosenberg
$ k1 V1 z( T% L3 M# I% X 8/18/03