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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6 d! T; L( t: u2 M$ X" ]# n5 o 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
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
# H" A' ?( F0 K7 a A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
+ s- S* I" R% U3 }+ e0 l' w) I7 v An accidental offspring of a boulder
9 V! |6 ^/ ]' w9 Y But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
* w  s/ G2 N( x Is neither understood nor appreciated
! f, W  C- `7 B7 f5 ~7 Y But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
3 U2 p  G; \; s* K6 L; \3 s/ y Its signature of concentric ripples
( P5 m$ {4 s; m; M Spiral outwards
2 v2 @2 f. [0 {' F; p Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
$ ]% z2 K* N5 G) c  `  | Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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2 e/ `( D9 ]9 M* U- [6 F1 R The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
/ o% F' d+ ~, n; z+ s  S7 ?( s% b Into a dueling force of action and reaction
/ L5 E: j! B! n8 C8 N9 h Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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0 i3 S  J/ K- {$ ], ]& `1 j2 Q Aren't we all pebbles?
& l9 S: q9 F' _7 ^( c* } Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
* a. H, f: j- I That who we are meant to be
4 S. Q2 n+ t* Q( r, c. h/ u 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
5 m9 v# r, Z( O$ |0 c, } Into the pond of life
7 P2 N. c; B! n) R# ]$ m  K Creating ripples
. E" \4 j9 T" G7 s' r; z that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

* H9 u+ }4 q4 V3 G7 X Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
  p+ e7 M( z+ _, M No matter how seemingly insignificant
+ K9 Z% R/ r  y3 o9 X8 L" ~ Changes the course of the lives
3 A  o* @* z8 d Of those we touch.?

( H( M' H' L, f8 k% J) l& m! x: M/ I And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
0 n+ m5 [  b' @9 J* i With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

  m  ]4 w7 c  P. n And then we have heaven …
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% L2 f# H4 l" r3 p' m- N% e% Q Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03