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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1 E& m) h7 Z6 y' N# k0 Y 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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3 G% L# }; G3 X5 f- |3 T Heaven
* q( p0 O* ~6 p, o/ _4 h/ e The pebble is worn smooth
. j2 S+ `; V0 G' C Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
/ ?- e& Z0 F; g But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
3 N/ N/ M1 `/ w  g Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
+ x# p: ~' _, c( ^6 ~  b( _: ` Its insignificance is transformed
2 s$ {* t, s5 Q) u9 U! f$ z% e Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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. l' j+ K% k8 ~* q* s The instant the pebble kisses the pond
2 Q( m9 f% t' D+ F! H% e Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
: o- A! y  C5 |+ H) z Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
* h! ~6 y4 d( O5 P4 g9 o Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

  [9 A, J' h+ A, S8 X4 n1 k" u The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
' E+ ?7 I6 n0 Q9 n" D: d Into a dueling force of action and reaction
; b) f9 {$ w' G) t Creating karmic energy
# ~: x; {" @2 _, _+ u Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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, p; m: U- n2 {4 W- q3 e Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
, X8 p) ]5 b+ d: w, l) U Can never be measured in isolation
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
Creating ripples
, c7 [/ I8 f. j$ E/ B5 c  ^! h- X. ` that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
3 N3 n- O2 r0 l- s 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
4 P) h: N* A3 K) b3 R, ]) m No matter how seemingly insignificant
# i! ?5 j5 s" @/ u2 W5 [ Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
& [3 Y' g6 G# Q5 V0 a0 r beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
# K- C1 }0 O' y  V, g With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
( G. m+ ?% c9 \1 f; V' j3 V The world will never be the same.
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" J2 G+ E: I7 H$ m/ F7 Z" N1 H And then we have heaven …

& P/ f" A& K& c; i Ross Rosenberg
& _3 h% ^( r3 ~7 R" ?; Y 8/18/03