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.
& |" b, d; q2 Z" L3 s, t, o; t
3 z2 H8 m! }5 ~' I+ a- y: v Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
- U1 |( m5 H" h! Q: \6 O Made small over time
, J' V2 P3 N1 K9 ^* |* \% P3 l; m0 N A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
1 z8 b/ {- x2 m( V" F) R A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
) S% z3 v- O2 H, { An accidental offspring of a boulder
# C+ p5 g, E% d  Z1 X% {9 ~4 L But just a very small stone.
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/ d  F6 \* R, c  ]  c* K The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
2 v2 D4 c( z( g6 Q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 O% K* |- ?8 u( e/ k6 d6 V1 M/ E Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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" D" I/ y9 \; t The instant the pebble kisses the pond
9 b+ ~* U9 f: }% b5 E1 P. y Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
; V: H" `( T0 j! ~+ C+ o Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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" n0 n+ ]8 y6 a: l8 ] The pebble creates its worth and meaning
  `& U% l- G# K By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

6 f/ N7 t4 R1 }& X3 n# @) ^4 U9 e Aren't we all pebbles?
1 D. u, ~% a5 V: J Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
( l" Z, U& d: n8 b" j 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
2 }2 H; {: F. v+ q4 m that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
4 \3 N4 q  m6 x5 T9 {. R- L7 L( H not because of well meaning plans
' K( W# K; L1 |# t But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

$ i$ y$ B5 @8 e! W1 _ And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
  r/ H4 `' |$ H" }5 `" ] We will gently leave this life
! u  j3 O; E) l: r With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
, g8 J& H& t- Q# l, k The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

# b6 E: E* d' J" P: f, p* T Ross Rosenberg
+ d, l% T& }/ }- R 8/18/03