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.
7 m. S1 z' r5 S( Q/ J6 j
2 ]0 m% c" [  {% C' [/ O6 n Heaven
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
& K. G/ K4 i+ V! B+ U; f# I; g But just a very small stone.
* J$ P2 Y6 _( `
: ]- h3 w$ o5 ^  k$ i The pebble's place in our world
) B0 b. h  D# i1 a Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
5 x, |$ a+ i7 [* [ Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
* i0 X* a  {% C& Q: l
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
* P2 S& F1 w+ G! s8 y7 p. z Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
9 |( U& E8 [/ a* w, ?8 | Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
, e6 t. t% k9 p' q* _1 J8 e8 r Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

' z: o. v7 s, L, k2 r3 n The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
3 Y" K* X1 C; n6 T- X- m3 r; C1 R1 ~ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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* T4 W5 Q0 i+ q/ s  E: M2 V* X4 L3 w Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
; U- H& ]$ d1 a5 v: \& D& O5 J But ultimately recognizing
  `& y4 b# q% \" G1 m! M/ b1 u6 k9 Z That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
; t* c$ e9 P2 L on a path into ourselves.

! ^, [" [8 P( G- ^& A# t, C It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
0 M3 D3 e- A% b that leave unique mark on our world
# F: ^2 N) `9 K9 k* X Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
0 G# U2 w5 g1 m% F- G- ]* E1 V4 | No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
3 p/ H! ~! L' t/ R! Y0 d) g Of those we touch.?

+ M" y# ?' G& x$ m) D' Q And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
4 _8 L4 ^6 D/ g# E0 M  D; j* T$ u With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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$ \* J6 ~& V# \! g$ W And then we have heaven …

! `8 J" e% X& x. i1 Q8 ~- _ Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03