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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1 Y8 i0 ~# s$ P; s+ X+ ], X 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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6 c5 e. g8 d2 ~( u* f. H+ h Heaven
( }( l. B! A; f The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
: Y5 ]- m; h" g- r4 k A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
* b; R$ z. L" J0 A0 {3 z' u" o But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
- W% x* B- e; }3 I+ f But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
9 ^2 E- `8 z. u" k% N5 @5 D Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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2 U2 w# U4 h* D  l0 _0 G- q The instant the pebble kisses the pond
7 ~" k9 H7 P/ t/ o2 @, g- x2 C Its signature of concentric ripples
, X" t! Z  Z6 p' ^$ i" R Spiral outwards
* o; X* l5 \1 X Moving far beyond itself.
$ J# I3 j7 J/ t5 p$ g2 @ Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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5 \; ^* v( ~+ f* V' w) _7 _ The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
8 x6 z5 |. ?! L/ |% Q% k' ?* f Into a dueling force of action and reaction
3 x0 x, W/ P/ T" o Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
' K/ J( Q% N/ u Feeling small and insignificant
- t1 E! M* m+ F4 A, u# [+ g But ultimately recognizing
9 |& l. x3 W! B That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
+ J( R5 D( k4 K4 `9 H0 p% j Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
9 g7 u- U8 z0 i& u7 K5 X that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
/ M. E% ~2 p# o9 w$ m not because of well meaning plans
6 ?8 N7 I4 T) y0 s But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
5 v2 X& v3 Y( c1 v  Q& ]( C1 \9 B Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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/ L1 G* }1 J: K And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
) \" b2 h/ v2 }& a- R: \) [/ b We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
" I/ x1 f' h% `" s( m! b* D4 e8 U4 w because of that one pebble
  O# W5 _( W- d. N! H7 C The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03