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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6 n4 i* x* h4 r+ g+ s9 D1 d: @0 t 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
0 ?- o7 C& Q2 C0 n0 q& I6 F# | Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
- j4 X* `- q: o! J- x' e A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 k* E+ I3 U; Z3 A+ g! L' W/ Y An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

3 v0 \9 z9 N' h9 o$ x. G* I1 L The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
9 R4 O& Q! C- B/ r But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
2 \- m( B% j: I3 T$ C3 C9 g6 ` Its insignificance is transformed
$ j1 q+ @+ B$ _/ O- d# J$ I# N* A, w Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
4 A& Q! C2 H1 u, ^0 r  _
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
, k4 k+ l+ K$ U" p* V. v* { Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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2 F; X2 N! g' E. E, |: a The pebble creates its worth and meaning
! L: k1 T% D1 h; _2 E3 G( r By unleashing its unimagined power?
2 v  s9 g1 n% g Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

! A! f* y# M9 u9 X' K Aren't we all pebbles?
3 M3 P, r0 I5 V* \; I& ? Feeling small and insignificant
( K: T& F: n5 g3 f But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
: E) q& a7 z4 D  H& V Can never be measured in isolation
1 i' j8 T' w  |4 j9 z on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
/ N  ?, ^7 {5 ?, g Our everlasting future
1 z' w4 s1 ]5 G' h: b! C7 p Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
1 M6 L$ k) V1 F% F! c4 b# } that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
" W4 _: `! n6 v/ B0 Z No matter how seemingly insignificant
# l3 ~- T6 V* l  g/ W. m 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
; J+ Q) B3 j# i% f' G3 _ We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
  ~) `5 L: Q4 n because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

' n. X" d' t! i4 h And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
; t8 l; ?8 Y# W  j$ R5 z! g- B" s0 k 8/18/03