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
! _. y9 L0 c9 F' N# O 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
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
. P2 W5 r7 H- K" X" ^+ n" | But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
. |# ^, u# N+ |% f Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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) i6 A4 U$ \% f3 C8 [; P7 S; E The instant the pebble kisses the pond
4 X% Z0 Z/ x! q) L$ \ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
3 a% A- o( k9 C5 b# Q Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

8 ^& H" k4 m6 p* i/ K$ ?4 F The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
- _8 s" Z7 E3 W& K' k( k; _0 s- D Into a dueling force of action and reaction
7 Y: d+ f7 n" q2 ~7 v Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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+ D! Q* b" v8 c0 [9 O5 T+ N5 D Aren't we all pebbles?
! A# l( Q& d. l8 I+ \" f/ _ Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
: v6 f3 N' m; W9 \ Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
; o) e3 u$ m! Q- U Not because of thoughts
" |# L4 D" F4 _ not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
! |( y7 _* S, s3 h+ I Changes the course of the lives
8 }8 T1 i. Z; n; w/ }8 ? Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
7 f( [! a4 p6 k9 a, [: P0 n We will gently leave this life
3 ^+ p2 l! k6 L- K/ }3 V: p With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
6 [6 I/ s+ b; R# x6 s. p/ P& K The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
" P* ~, `& W4 | 8/18/03