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.

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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1 k' c0 W( r. m; _4 j- _ Heaven
- }) ]4 U- H# t" P6 R" V The pebble is worn smooth
' C- l# [5 ?7 y. U& j Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
$ a* s( \& Q. [1 E4 |  I$ Y: {9 ?6 P An accidental offspring of a boulder
- ]7 U3 H  X% w0 P# u: r; b But just a very small stone.
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" v4 u0 {/ f6 u- T  Q+ C The pebble's place in our world
! G) s/ s3 u) l4 _9 F Is neither understood nor appreciated
* s" H  }- q: G9 }: R But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
; U$ E3 A' o) g1 V Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

9 j0 s+ w+ E' C- K The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
9 [: q8 W3 {9 w( o; ~' F+ w+ ` Gently affecting everything in its wake
& a- P, Y' r+ |" M% k) a) Z Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
. {# H) Q& g" L; E1 `8 T& s$ t
; @# }1 S& ]( S) v 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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0 Q- l, j$ {" B0 N7 }, r) ? Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
* Q  c! u' ^4 ]4 U6 I* e0 t  R Can never be measured in isolation
5 t/ ^5 O$ y' n! V5 R on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
- k4 L2 C0 k, k6 o( b Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
- g& r( }7 X3 L( B; M Not because of thoughts
+ I4 T" m% y6 }. f' J& }0 F6 q- ? 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
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
) W" {* O( Q( [3 e: N# ]2 ] Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
1 f# D- J- a1 s& k3 ~1 F  D beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

/ g: w0 X$ l  X And then we have heaven …
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5 Y; w6 w& E' D Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03