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.

/ ~2 ^8 V. M! ~8 T7 k" Q# h 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
# f3 w, X' N( a8 S0 w5 a1 z% B The pebble is worn smooth
* G( s( K; [% _# z# l Made small over time
7 M2 R: Y/ T$ {1 f( t2 A A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
! h- o' c) R0 i5 x A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
3 F% Q* q$ H3 N+ s
, y( y5 R/ |! Z8 e% \( Q& Q The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
; @, a; t4 ^! ~& I" ^0 E! e1 _' G But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
7 G% |) I" C9 [; u Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

& f2 A, J  a& C. ^6 E  i  y The instant the pebble kisses the pond
- s# n1 m7 K$ S) f Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
/ C8 {" C' P/ D- X3 j8 \ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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  ?% R! F3 m' G5 t The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ p$ H" l$ X( B; B By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
! m  B0 J" V; s; c! `5 ~ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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) r* X" I4 e2 F  s Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
- A  E2 B& D; O0 r on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
  ^6 @5 p. u" i" i! z4 ? 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
1 i' d$ S8 ^0 G6 `( F3 [ not because of well meaning plans
3 \2 ~4 C" ]5 c, T* b; _ But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
% G4 ^+ j  M7 ~( D No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
) I  n3 S& T- I# o( Z3 E. m9 f Of those we touch.?

$ h5 F" a+ _- L And when the icy winds of death
" @- v+ j( H" }3 L beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
$ ^, e$ u7 f* k6 T7 }) j: F6 W because of that one pebble
: P+ ~* }" ~0 g7 q, Y The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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. g, a9 o- b. u% Y Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03