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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( h5 @  G* d8 ~  M8 ?* 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.
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7 p8 d0 M2 s6 w6 C/ O6 k- k Heaven
0 G7 A1 d  f! {6 j, w( Z The pebble is worn smooth
( k$ c# ?% x( t6 h% }8 E Made small over time
+ x, o2 {* {/ x: Y A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
6 n1 Z# }5 x. W A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
( W2 ^4 m  m: \* _- K An accidental offspring of a boulder
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
  V6 `# U5 Y3 b0 f+ G8 Y* U$ d Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

4 S9 Y* _  |- e# \" e% u- Z1 { The instant the pebble kisses the pond
, S9 g) v/ A% W) c' r1 I, O Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
$ o+ y& L( B3 H* a8 y* `3 v Moving far beyond itself.
1 V# d% c/ l! `7 R2 q# P) A Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

5 a4 {# u' M1 k5 d9 f0 R4 m% M/ \ The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
3 h5 o4 ~/ f5 Q! K$ l" x% B) X' ]! i Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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+ D  J* q6 G" L0 M) `0 f+ E Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
6 a) R3 N/ `4 u0 w7 y That who we are meant to be
; V" S5 p6 a4 d6 ? Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
: @, ?  x- h6 V3 X+ U+ J6 O4 J Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
' \* l( m/ e8 p+ {% @3 K2 n Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
: `5 O( w4 K! T/ z) q that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
3 e# `& X5 M4 o* u! {* t7 W not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

( i& l! a4 Y" }+ S1 J% u& b6 E Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
9 M, F9 v" B! c- j3 _- |2 _0 a No matter how seemingly insignificant
5 K- }$ b1 ~$ n0 p Changes the course of the lives
9 [% m. |$ _1 b8 r& ? Of those we touch.?

" d9 e" P  {/ E, I9 D$ w3 v 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
: w4 m3 F' Z  s% l9 j. x The world will never be the same.

, @8 o9 d  ]$ j& c" c And then we have heaven …
5 Y, C9 y% _0 d8 i0 s
8 F; n0 p0 B6 E Ross Rosenberg
3 e5 S# u) y1 ^4 Y 8/18/03