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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) U8 F, O" o0 Y1 U/ U3 |! r 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
9 t, O* k$ b( t! @' y4 H5 e The pebble is worn smooth
/ ~/ v) E! w" S0 V) ^1 n4 H. g Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
- v: G- t; ?" d/ ~( F/ ]/ | An accidental offspring of a boulder
. }+ S) @- Y- P, r1 K- m But just a very small stone.
/ {  a1 h1 }; ?- Q6 s
& |, ]" h- r2 V! M6 s1 ] The pebble's place in our world
# V3 P# R1 |3 O2 E: ~ Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
, ^! \: `& ~- {# Z Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

% ]% k' s4 b( Y5 M6 O# \ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
$ f/ ~' |7 t% u; ]" G+ V Its signature of concentric ripples
1 n: \7 A& k; t0 S  L Spiral outwards
! a& C/ ?. R3 z7 X/ w( ? Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

  q. ?9 C( ?  T3 H: _- d0 t The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
; M% q, B! v" ]' B8 w Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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! M, i$ C& `+ a; r" [) D5 [ Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
4 \: U3 y. I- Q6 w6 ? Can never be measured in isolation
* C9 u) ?7 D' j% [- _' r( l on a path into ourselves.
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* t% O; B! b8 U: v) a. t; w It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
7 G5 X( {8 S# \! B, b Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
8 r1 Z0 ^" c# ?3 G* j that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
4 ?/ q6 u9 k* n not because of well meaning plans
) s! t8 h$ G9 p( P; Y But because of actions.
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# D- w, `) T3 S4 ^ Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
# ~* P* j  w7 n9 S' O  L1 G; x% _ No matter how seemingly insignificant
0 j. W: h$ t7 \9 x: l" E: F Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

3 Q2 j- q2 W: }4 L* t6 j* L; B! _ And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
. K7 h& T+ M8 v7 W$ p6 Q We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

; @6 N8 g5 }3 C, K* i: ^ Ross Rosenberg
, M* X& B) i; H' g5 \9 E. { 8/18/03