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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9 L$ B9 y* S: r 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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  G, R/ \5 |: G1 q- H( A$ h Heaven
+ K5 ~' m7 u0 ~% m0 n; D. s The pebble is worn smooth
/ M: a, A, v% x# G( E Made small over time
2 F# ?, G2 I0 M9 G, l 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.

) K/ o% I' O( d9 K4 I* Z- _ The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 J6 z1 ?. L$ q1 {( W5 `- I Its insignificance is transformed
# L) C) [0 t: t# B) ?! O+ G Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

& A& L5 D) S7 c- B. `; r1 H# F* t) i1 Z The instant the pebble kisses the pond
2 A6 ]: l  D8 j, w8 y  s9 c4 {' [ Its signature of concentric ripples
7 |; |. d1 t9 X' d6 ~ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
- l0 l( B) Z" K: @' u+ B5 C0 d) |* t 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
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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- Y4 q2 M/ D8 K Aren't we all pebbles?
7 B" T! \" v& ~. v6 W# E Feeling small and insignificant
% g$ X7 _1 X$ |' }9 _0 V But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
0 u1 ^' n7 x/ e Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

# q9 |8 v" {5 @: e  t) r/ s It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
7 W6 D. N( C9 {5 K- Y: l/ a% b Not because of thoughts
& l3 T0 Y$ r5 P, k* M# B not because of well meaning plans
4 x" Z" S% _+ Q" C6 z But because of actions.

# J. m+ P3 m8 ~0 Y- _) s/ G( f Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
. T) E  ~- L% g# Z# Q1 `8 J4 | 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
5 U, s: ]) T' R. k because of that one pebble
* W& `+ q* r  J2 [' Q( E The world will never be the same.
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0 \2 p) v2 d3 E And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8 f; M; w' `! _  e' M! _ 8/18/03