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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, ?" v0 F& h6 @2 ? 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
1 ?6 U  w" T, ?; a Made small over time
: R, W) A1 L) ]' G- n. l 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
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' B( b7 [; I2 R6 A Its insignificance is transformed
+ V1 J: f$ E5 O# E* I5 E2 q Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
: ?! r* ]8 t& n, V) F Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
3 g# F/ d& Z9 [1 |' ^8 q3 O" L By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
( [8 a5 y9 z" x  R Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

6 W: _( t' Y- t! s* P. l7 Q+ @ Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
* {$ H2 v) H9 R+ y. W# W/ M# h- n But ultimately recognizing
. n0 h$ d! n1 h9 K. G( j& m" `# p: R That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
/ v* H! @2 K3 t- O* [5 c7 {# C  Z' v on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. J0 d0 \- y7 h9 S$ j Into the pond of life
5 A2 K; |9 v9 e4 ^. @% I) J Creating ripples
' l2 \9 {+ o: Y* P/ c9 T that leave unique mark on our world
2 @) o( O, Q6 K. |" e, U: k Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

7 E& L9 T% j3 W- F  } Our life's prayers our answered
2 a8 s/ n) m# J% c) n Because even the smallest pebble
/ z3 k6 b$ r3 P% ~) T No matter how seemingly insignificant
' b6 U8 y4 c  R* c* x9 A2 c8 q. J: d7 ] Changes the course of the lives
8 J6 x) o# A4 A4 } Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
1 i$ N/ Y1 C, d/ e8 M We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
9 f. C7 Y$ k& X' U because of that one pebble
/ k& K. h; D; N! n$ I! N The world will never be the same.

- z$ U  A' E' z& j8 b/ j2 R And then we have heaven …
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. A- F7 I6 y8 |  h: T5 X Ross Rosenberg
. @# z, Z' N6 o9 u7 \+ y 8/18/03