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
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 r. v: W1 Z& H0 p 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
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
3 f7 l% h2 o1 I' G, {0 h Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

$ R5 r0 K( V* f1 Q& @  }& x( t The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
5 M3 p  `/ H; Q Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
; L% X! s$ `* b" S; m6 g Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
% U. D7 j5 S* \: a% F6 s: y By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
5 o% @7 f- n/ I+ R  Z, d! U6 K Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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; b! n/ i9 @7 v Aren't we all pebbles?
1 m* L2 Q; a" p! ]2 z; ^) Z Feeling small and insignificant
( y2 p# [& H' W) B; ? But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
; ^" c2 `3 t# i7 p Can never be measured in isolation
! \# q# b5 s6 l on a path into ourselves.
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$ ?% k' H9 O! F6 n5 T2 v It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
6 b/ c  L4 e3 H  ~3 f4 b, g Into the pond of life
: S; r! N" l! N6 w! G Creating ripples
4 ]$ M& O5 {' V3 A) C; G! z" s that leave unique mark on our world
$ \5 w9 R! ^& y Not because of thoughts
; r, Q7 B' @8 ]7 P( ~ not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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) t7 {. N- g( N9 V  z' H Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
, Q4 I! i7 z1 p Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
1 I) ~+ H  J( L# d) q With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
; c$ x, ~& Y: ^0 F The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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/ f, l0 o6 o+ F7 I0 E9 g- A/ X Ross Rosenberg
( t0 Q' L  B; y 8/18/03