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.

Heaven
; Y7 d% l# F! u6 W2 S The pebble is worn smooth
" N/ U# n) N) }; i( H Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
; G- a( D( Y" e& C  Z1 I7 U$ ]4 L A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 d2 D* r) |9 e% I$ y' W An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
8 d. c( q: D# J0 L* G: s+ `
The pebble's place in our world
3 J0 O3 ~; {# C% Q Is neither understood nor appreciated
$ R' |$ |, r! f- T But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
' L& u  M) N) Q/ R+ } Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
9 z# h1 @6 M4 S" ]% Z) B; c Its signature of concentric ripples
+ p* S8 p/ x  p7 M' T& o Spiral outwards
1 b9 o( u& X9 k1 W$ _. w Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
) M: M5 I$ w! v1 t  y% I/ z4 w4 B Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
+ ^' X/ ]5 O! o! W
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
2 l( j' z! @4 p# C# Q( o By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
: ?' j& F5 @" J8 b( d7 i8 B Creating karmic energy
  F$ Z) X6 w! ?; x( a! b8 Y Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

: |; m. C2 |/ z) {. f! Y' o Aren't we all pebbles?
  C$ {! u# N% M5 } Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
% n' C& t- o7 _: S) i, D; H  s' v Can never be measured in isolation
$ I2 a  `- l+ ^% D on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
( L5 e$ p9 ?' |& V& D5 h" g% F$ N Creating ripples
8 V, {) x4 v( w; d" B0 u that leave unique mark on our world
  b$ v/ P3 n# F; X, {3 g5 S Not because of thoughts
* J( j5 z" n% H( u  x, ? not because of well meaning plans
# q$ q7 }7 C2 c3 D But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
+ R  h& e% D6 t5 E1 o6 T  F Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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; o; S3 K8 ^! r3 U4 I3 i7 g And when the icy winds of death
2 z  j% o/ T) Z1 \% V/ y1 G beckon our lasting attention
. ~/ e  s# b/ {  q5 u5 V We will gently leave this life
# P3 e) M4 g  X& Q) U With the knowledge that
) ?$ a5 |! O' h6 ? because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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9 H: k5 K# A& h7 ^, ^# j And then we have heaven …

. k" ~7 H3 e8 p+ e7 a Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03