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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6 r5 p0 k* D  x. p 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
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
" Y* ]4 K& n* b A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
7 H6 `- ]% ^; Z8 |( Q1 s1 ^: u An accidental offspring of a boulder
+ v" |( p# P2 m5 U" p% |/ Z( g But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
% p. l: Q$ b' [; b; |. W% S' T Is neither understood nor appreciated
0 c( \- C2 ?. m  N0 O  S$ I But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
, }( |% X; A0 e7 V8 I; R. h* }5 _ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
4 Q2 _% T; R9 d, Z* D, i2 g3 |& U! Y
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
5 `* F& M+ O. K Its signature of concentric ripples
5 \8 y  Y8 l" I1 B- g* c' Q, |  c Spiral outwards
7 d: n+ j4 `% x5 ]( p- B$ F Moving far beyond itself.
) S: g$ }; ?, }5 X Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

4 A3 x" m( C' P The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
1 [+ K+ N' l7 X+ k5 N" N Creating karmic energy
: A% E- L2 b8 s! }, Y- } Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
2 i& y; S2 H, T; R" v# e But ultimately recognizing
! y3 e% u8 n6 T0 s0 ^ That who we are meant to be
" h( j! F& R' H( k" ^* R5 [! J% j- @ Can never be measured in isolation
, V3 @- W2 m! m* O6 a on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
" h! b. ~5 `2 e$ ?( O5 t Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ V# \3 Q- F# R Into the pond of life
, M/ q( O! C$ @# q0 o% c4 e Creating ripples
$ t' v3 h5 j& [9 E" v  S that leave unique mark on our world
* Z4 w" P9 k, R$ F: M! w Not because of thoughts
' d4 k1 D9 c9 a/ h  X% c not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
3 G) S1 Y' r( K4 m2 W Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
: n2 w7 u4 S) k4 P: ^* e Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
( D, }0 s. I  ^. y0 m; s9 p1 f beckon our lasting attention
/ s: _! ?) A) Y( K8 K- E We will gently leave this life
" q& ?% D0 h' r7 B With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

, W# t& v% K1 \' ^% b And then we have heaven …
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/ v4 B( |' f$ i' V' Y Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03