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
The pebble is worn smooth
4 s$ A8 I2 e' L+ M9 b6 j Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 k  B- E# s* k+ O A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
/ ^9 M" ?, h1 n An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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5 [3 L4 A3 E" o( @ The pebble's place in our world
! {1 f5 e, j0 ^4 L8 I! a Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
& P( i# a  S' q. f2 M- W Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
3 b% s. @$ U! J+ p6 [5 y, r Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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2 z3 L; S- N1 n The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ f) \, O6 B1 ?% _- ~4 x+ e9 Z, } By unleashing its unimagined power?
5 K. k& l0 @- E7 U  e Into a dueling force of action and reaction
* K7 F0 q+ }' s4 p Creating karmic energy
5 m% {) @0 F, Y Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

4 g& r" ^; \: s1 ^! Q 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
6 X+ D. [" k( u. M/ z on a path into ourselves.

. L& `  |& o$ l2 H7 `: o It is true then:
( g4 u( n( c, U3 ?6 K# R Our everlasting future
# b6 v% G4 B3 X9 v7 h( H: k1 I Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
! N7 R3 ~7 p0 j2 O( p Creating ripples
0 W' J9 O  q. A3 b that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
" m- H7 J! k) S4 `6 Z9 T! [ not because of well meaning plans
4 `) u* h7 V5 n8 A But because of actions.

, g# H! L' R6 x8 p' G Our life's prayers our answered
' m# O4 C' N& O' X Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

- i0 z/ q* Q, c5 y( ^ And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
, e5 A$ E7 [' e We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
/ c* b. B2 L3 ?9 z: T! K* @ The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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4 T; O" r; I1 A1 w! o, q Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03