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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( E* M4 J- F9 @* ? 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
. N/ h8 g4 h% i3 S Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
% ]! t9 l2 Q# E+ m2 U But just a very small stone.
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& S% X' N! S, m4 X2 H  \( _# E The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
) \- d) O, L6 E+ v1 J' R- D0 @ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
& g) O0 j' ^' b8 i Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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3 K; I3 H' _3 q8 a$ c1 b The instant the pebble kisses the pond
* y! A! Z! h7 C( O! ^. C. y Its signature of concentric ripples
9 ^$ U( |, b9 _$ A5 d  R# C" L' n* i Spiral outwards
7 J6 H& N. n8 y  G0 {% i2 A Moving far beyond itself.
0 w) K7 l% g) n1 z$ ~& t$ | Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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+ E8 n4 v) F) y2 x! }6 {  d# } The pebble creates its worth and meaning
0 {; Q1 L* k, R. n% ~ By unleashing its unimagined power?
0 ]% e" H0 c8 v4 P- P* q8 s Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
6 A" {+ r- Q- F' x Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
( Z3 |7 i$ D/ c. n! w$ ] That who we are meant to be
/ W. k/ O9 s! @8 i Can never be measured in isolation
: N9 i+ S$ z: [! e2 Z on a path into ourselves.

& e1 v: H) O  z( X$ W It is true then:
9 g8 S$ M7 u( l3 ~ Our everlasting future
2 a' R' |& ?1 P Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) k  E7 O: N* M( p" r. E Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
3 c; n8 m, j0 f! z; O3 n not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
. L- z1 k( U/ F0 T* q Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

0 @& a) _- Z2 |; A' n" s+ ^9 k! T And when the icy winds of death
' M: h  _8 B- S# u# o  m beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
( G7 r" u+ m. \% y" q With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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; Q+ Y; R% o: C6 w' M8 A- } Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03