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
/ |+ o- p# v* E Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
2 T, A$ |3 @1 I+ O! F3 R A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
: m( v/ W6 O# N1 f$ u* j' q4 i An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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6 S: ^2 O# C9 m7 G2 E The pebble's place in our world
# T4 r7 e4 |/ C$ x; g" E% b+ M Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
  x5 b" ]! m* q* x: u0 p Its insignificance is transformed
1 D' w7 q2 D  [0 {9 p Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
/ M, Z" M3 i% [! d# k( s3 ^  _ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
8 s* L; Z1 Q% J# l$ N Moving far beyond itself.
  \0 A# u4 I7 n3 @1 ^, a Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

2 S1 T1 m+ c* B" P$ O2 x: y The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
: \( @" X; a/ A6 T. }2 G Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
; y; M: }  `; i% b' f Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
; I. `% @7 a0 s  M0 @ Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
9 X# N1 Q& I- M+ F  f; I That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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+ a0 A1 w7 C. A# H  Y% h2 q; s It is true then:
- Q* A$ q! b2 J) u Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ A# G$ ?6 |9 r2 _ Into the pond of life
2 \. z; c4 O6 \1 \: e5 K Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
; i( u* p9 B" L Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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& V* s: M% `( I0 h& Y Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
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Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
* w8 T0 C8 F8 x2 f" w; K! A: y because of that one pebble
  x1 L( `) f/ @0 a( K  S0 O The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

( }- ]+ a- \7 F& o3 O. @) p Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03