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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; }, x0 g  V: r7 p2 O  @1 ` 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
% B' g" Q) I+ [2 X0 C' ?# |$ y7 P5 n, m The pebble is worn smooth
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
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
" z: r9 i3 F* Y2 B But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
0 P0 \9 z% ^! B- r. d  L" L& p* v- { Moving far beyond itself.
/ W$ \8 W; O$ `9 L5 ^ Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

: S1 ?% I1 ]$ d( m1 t. Y+ f9 _7 Y The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
$ m! @- Z1 L/ u5 G. Y3 V: W+ B Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

% d" v% }& G& V0 L7 I4 K" \2 v( s Aren't we all pebbles?
: [. N9 d) p" B: e' l9 }' g1 a8 w Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
8 C& H1 y2 H& @0 { Our everlasting future
8 [$ d3 V8 V, i  G Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
! d! T9 s+ r9 ? Into the pond of life
/ i: y8 j- A6 ~4 ~1 k+ w4 _ Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
. z7 K) l4 E, D0 U' m! X not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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. g1 Y, U: ?; G! d& S Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
% l! {8 f" F/ g# H% c; U Of those we touch.?
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. W! t: |+ C6 W1 }' m( o And when the icy winds of death
) H8 x7 C% v$ L$ y beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
7 \6 m3 U: e& J7 H6 X% N& B3 M; { With the knowledge that
" {0 z! F) Y4 ]" |; D because of that one pebble
( o# Q* @9 Y0 A1 _ The world will never be the same.

: X" H4 d' a" v9 T/ n, ]; L And then we have heaven …
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/ \  b! t7 o; `6 M  R. s7 R Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03