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.

Heaven
, C: S  H7 o# n8 M/ _3 ] The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
5 f) ~, T0 f6 c# v( }8 i, f) W A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
3 Y& L) v& G% d6 { A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
- N4 e& L% b: v4 D1 [$ } But just a very small stone.

) Y/ B4 `2 j2 B9 u7 a' Y The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
. g0 h7 _5 c. z" g; R But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
% l  ^* M7 d5 f  J Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
% w2 g6 O7 _$ b0 O/ F- w Its signature of concentric ripples
' i! E9 [9 p* b; B) G+ s" r5 ]  y Spiral outwards
1 S) K* X: r* n, \4 \ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
2 O  F: w1 u# ? Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
/ Y/ n2 v+ Z7 i By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
" ]0 \' Z; w% `3 G Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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5 V& _# R. ?5 H$ i2 F4 | Aren't we all pebbles?
! l' C5 l% z! ^$ c( h# s$ ^ Feeling small and insignificant
  R$ p+ I. H% Q) P2 W* A0 `% H But ultimately recognizing
$ \- E; y  M8 B1 j2 J That who we are meant to be
; L* k! \* G* K, Q/ z Can never be measured in isolation
. ?% D' j; C# D, E# J on a path into ourselves.

% s" u; {2 n; E6 O/ g- `7 B- o' a0 q) O It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ x2 r% n2 W  Z2 A: i' {# a Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
& I0 P, c% |0 c that leave unique mark on our world
/ H6 m. {7 F, {; g' n9 s Not because of thoughts
+ `; \3 z& V8 i9 i not because of well meaning plans
1 d" }7 I5 D+ n But because of actions.
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  E) L: Y0 y7 F0 l% Y5 U. R! x Our life's prayers our answered
6 T8 f" M7 _: C5 f, u3 L3 G/ Y( ~ Because even the smallest pebble
2 D) l" j8 a* t" P No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
1 ^* ]- \- c9 Z9 n7 }  W" L Of those we touch.?

, V$ R3 I/ ^# T& t3 {; | And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
4 z1 ]1 j  U4 ~: k6 r8 x We will gently leave this life
' t3 I# c- p0 o/ }+ J With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

7 R7 v% N! |  z8 E% x* ?- q0 u8 Y Ross Rosenberg
$ i) D! l% y% e3 `( j* d7 Z% K 8/18/03