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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3 j% `% [/ [) q( V 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
4 e6 L. C' p5 T$ W Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
; r, V: I+ \' j6 { A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
3 F: u+ @7 h- I3 T5 v4 x9 S An accidental offspring of a boulder
& y) O. d) z+ d* h! m But just a very small stone.
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* L- I5 H" z: I; ^4 V+ t! C% K The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
! I6 \' z, V  O/ P2 b. \( ?5 g But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# o% r+ T# K8 L Its insignificance is transformed
: j# k7 m1 g: i" M9 L Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
" V- k. X. w$ I' n8 Z. g2 H Its signature of concentric ripples
, O" p- U/ P7 b% X9 V Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
, w) B! T' y' ~7 m( {: I Gently affecting everything in its wake
$ N+ k) t/ P8 u5 M4 u: r Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

' y2 V- p) R0 x9 l4 @4 ` The pebble creates its worth and meaning
2 P+ E& ?" D' a$ D2 Y By unleashing its unimagined power?
7 ^+ f; `0 y+ M. v Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
" ~- Y8 E8 P5 |. y7 R) { Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

! [; ~0 \4 G. |: m8 ] Aren't we all pebbles?
6 r) n# i- d0 }  N, E3 b; x- W Feeling small and insignificant
" b0 ?0 K" c% ?! r But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
. \7 o7 ^$ M( f' Q7 G# @ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
$ a- s3 R4 ~: Q. m9 W2 s! ]0 X. A Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
% a* r5 f5 g4 z! S# H0 r not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
9 x3 \3 @5 p' ?2 f+ [$ s Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
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We will gently leave this life
( J8 Y  U: E5 v3 S6 o With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

# l7 ]$ g- `  D- S) V And then we have heaven …
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6 Z6 a! e: O* M9 v3 F' F+ N( T Ross Rosenberg
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