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.

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
7 r7 `: c1 x1 x) x( ?  E' | Made small over time
+ f# h4 n3 e$ t6 b1 G0 R. T 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.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
; V, [# E" I3 j. p9 \2 L But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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3 j: ]& |! J& P2 e+ u, Z The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
2 ]! c: C/ q2 b/ |) Z# @. _: r: X. Z Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
0 _- @/ K# T7 v: i, s8 X- O Creating karmic energy
: w. s3 y8 s0 d( f  E5 _- m Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

0 i$ Q0 w* l! H0 Z Aren't we all pebbles?
* |6 Y# Q$ x- N: }5 }& ^' l Feeling small and insignificant
& E$ a; E9 J- k: Y. a2 j But ultimately recognizing
1 A. h7 ^. v) k/ I5 x That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
- m; O& T* A& m% P/ V% L& N on a path into ourselves.
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  W! r. w* a* F4 N! z3 x9 g2 t: X, d& H It is true then:
Our everlasting future
' Q9 u4 i" `3 b/ U5 M& \6 [* I Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
0 e+ O% E! ]' _( Q. M: z3 O that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
3 h+ G. ?$ v# e6 N7 q But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
- I! G: ]! ]/ | Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
8 S9 y4 U, F3 C9 V" d' C We will gently leave this life
. d6 {6 {% y( I# f With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
4 h# ^4 j% C9 o" x8 _0 z7 k The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

3 l4 P0 y/ L1 l2 @$ B# n# d Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03