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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  Z5 _) b" z  M4 H9 ]& [( u$ N 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.

9 P* q+ O7 c. c* V% H Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
, x: M( Y6 a9 L, g# x A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
8 E( r1 e# c( X But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
* }4 z' Q0 |) a& I/ e$ ~* Y5 i# f" V Is neither understood nor appreciated
' J2 r2 i' \4 T1 d; \$ P1 c But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

! W! K  z/ l/ C7 |- i) c$ L$ | The instant the pebble kisses the pond
* S1 ]5 b1 {! R2 c5 Q Its signature of concentric ripples
) p: ~8 }2 _+ X& i# s5 L Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ Y, m$ [' e& P' q1 } By unleashing its unimagined power?
; y/ O# P. H+ B5 `6 R- c+ Q 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
That who we are meant to be
, K1 t& @4 [4 F7 l Can never be measured in isolation
0 e' M# t$ v$ K4 J. ]! V5 Q on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
* b$ M) f' ?' `6 X) ^! g+ h* n% {3 M Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" i; x5 @: ~; _* }" Y( K# N( A Into the pond of life
( [& E$ @9 e9 d6 k. t. L0 L! o1 S: {5 P Creating ripples
- K/ P# G4 ^( w* ^  ?4 o4 D1 T& O that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
( [/ V: T' @6 q2 o8 r not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
+ M: A: |4 D; S, j6 r Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
! M& \3 e) @9 b/ t9 C: d Changes the course of the lives
# ^' ~- S8 Q: j! a1 y9 c" U Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
4 o1 J3 h9 k; B+ e beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
: F% l+ n  B5 ?; g) @, m7 S) ]* V With the knowledge that
* k8 O1 G; A: n/ P1 o- M, P because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

+ }$ N; Y$ n9 Q And then we have heaven …
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" {0 E  m9 @& w8 G/ [ Ross Rosenberg
  ~" l# s, q/ P' m! j! Z4 n8 d/ } 8/18/03