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.
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Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
9 s7 V7 e# S7 `' q Made small over time
7 i+ u' j% K0 D! E% u8 K A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
% v- j- ^: ]8 m# \, ~0 d) w9 A6 d+ P A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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1 \# I* ^7 L: W9 I3 L The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
& n) b! t) t4 t9 W Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
+ X& K0 b3 x5 E3 v0 U( K1 L Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
  T+ h. v3 [) l( S: A  B% U- h  Q3 f Into a dueling force of action and reaction
% t; r5 Q% s! D1 A. a# |2 | Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
7 Q$ y0 f! Y, m9 J6 ?; [- _% ^ But ultimately recognizing
, x. w9 b* w1 O7 i- j% D2 N% ~4 w That who we are meant to be
* e7 x$ `& [' ^5 c' p Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
% G# H7 e/ S. X Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
/ e. q/ ~# d9 A2 r; d& J not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
* y8 A0 y, U/ ^! N6 U) J5 y7 R Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
8 B. Z7 X; i) u! t+ w& C Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
7 j4 T: E4 S. p/ {& H beckon our lasting attention
+ {0 _3 W+ }" k$ |$ ~$ p We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
5 w) U9 s/ D  ^ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

- Q8 }4 {; z" O# c Ross Rosenberg
+ U9 {( O. D  j* h* _ 8/18/03