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
  X$ a3 n' e7 e Made small over time
2 |$ q7 k+ t9 }- O& D' z4 p5 Q A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
$ E; k; A! b' g- }7 t% d7 h7 ], T9 q+ X" Z An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

3 g0 [1 h7 H) t/ o- \# p' d The pebble's place in our world
# u/ r4 D1 S. t( v9 k) e" }0 r3 \ Is neither understood nor appreciated
' ]+ g6 S* @' O) V% Q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
0 K+ U! [2 x, d2 o0 j9 N4 c7 o Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
5 }, |: M( i. P1 V( \
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
8 P% E) Z0 p& t* m Spiral outwards
$ r2 H2 Q; ]% {# e# \7 k3 X Moving far beyond itself.
2 B3 \) o6 h) A7 `0 ~ Gently affecting everything in its wake
% L% {3 {& [# D: n5 U1 W Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

9 _5 m! U7 c. P8 ?. _+ \ The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
/ P. D1 v" |8 B! u5 s, h; n( V Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
4 N3 O& t5 e  S1 i" i5 Z% z on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
7 z, }* ~# ?, P% q- p  @* h Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
" T: Z$ N8 k* b+ K Not because of thoughts
% z5 F- s; E% z+ d) v) @+ h. X! f not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

: d. U* V1 q7 [# q Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
4 O* {4 d1 F% @* [8 ]3 y; R& n No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
5 U. E$ \; `* l$ U: W Of those we touch.?
$ X9 Q4 ?; e4 `/ p* P
; R% y, t7 D( l7 s4 g# D And when the icy winds of death
* E9 `5 \! h& R* r beckon our lasting attention
7 c$ a, C! ]) k+ s! a/ d We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
7 v) z, B. g! `+ j2 E The world will never be the same.

8 V( s4 C' d! b! R And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03