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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) l( ?. v$ |3 K- H) z9 Q6 k9 } 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.

7 s1 @% ^$ `! c/ v( K! r* x Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
0 |% x8 F) n" G A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
8 a, b& M8 C6 a* X4 L8 Z3 p5 J9 D/ U An accidental offspring of a boulder
  d  D( I3 [6 p6 {( d4 d But just a very small stone.

- g. R% T! l) B; ]$ i4 K The pebble's place in our world
' G: m% {1 j  p* r# u! m0 [3 r Is neither understood nor appreciated
3 V0 i$ f6 f- ]& O But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
, Z7 q) C$ }0 p4 J Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

+ ?1 h, B' n" N, i% g4 E The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
$ @+ K6 [' }; v4 `8 Y. l! P& S( F3 h Spiral outwards
6 j: k6 O2 N# F- R0 d9 O Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
2 |1 Q/ h# {3 ~& a1 z: ?; | Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

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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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
; |* J  a# Y$ F+ P1 a That who we are meant to be
/ {  r; t4 P# V5 } Can never be measured in isolation
& R( c1 n! O  p7 P; ` on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
, F( ~  y, G+ m- |7 @ Our everlasting future
9 d# ^- N9 D7 I' O Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
0 b. g6 [+ v5 y; k Into the pond of life
$ R4 _0 @  t6 V" U& a/ e3 } Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
3 E: ]# a' k6 @  _: q Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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8 z; J+ [, e7 `) c5 R Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
  K% s  C& @& H+ y0 S3 v Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
  O* ?# C( H- m* J! ~. w4 X: y beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
/ Z6 }$ F7 q8 i because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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" P; f7 U6 Z. w And then we have heaven …
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) i$ G8 I  O! X$ \* d Ross Rosenberg
' F, w% v) P; q2 A; v/ l4 j! X 8/18/03