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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. N4 v" D/ C7 @9 t  _, f 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
1 G' R$ [/ A" V* G/ }* D& A$ }; P The pebble is worn smooth
7 `# P: I0 j( f+ W/ r% I/ C0 a Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
/ R# X% ~/ g# f4 t An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
6 C. d2 s( ~: G" `! f% v4 G$ T Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
. c1 B; }, u6 U  K- ~ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

' w" G1 ^" i+ Y+ Y! W6 {: z The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
& }' _3 n) q0 t8 j/ k) e Spiral outwards
1 u) K+ l. X( n8 C9 c Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
. B+ Q& t! V; l+ t- |. t5 h Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

( F2 {( f5 e8 |1 `: k' d The pebble creates its worth and meaning
* g6 g/ D. N$ A5 l1 V8 `, S By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
; t6 z; n! C* q3 J# i# a& R! G Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
% K+ v7 u* U: H, S+ H( I2 E Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
  o$ W3 l$ Q6 s( W/ ]" \, N7 P1 Z Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

6 u/ q: V0 s! k5 L9 P. }! N It is true then:
Our everlasting future
6 o1 s# e- k- o1 V; D1 c Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ a0 K! m* C7 e Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
" Z$ M6 d9 ?: I6 r% S* S that leave unique mark on our world
% Y4 M( t3 |/ @4 \1 L" D Not because of thoughts
+ U  b  Z! p0 Z, c0 n8 B not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

- R; v: C; g' ~2 U* h2 t Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
' V5 ?7 a3 ?2 A# H7 s8 I Changes the course of the lives
" |. f# d1 S$ p3 @9 d. D, v# R+ w Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
" W+ T6 v3 u( v& O8 @8 _6 n3 _ beckon our lasting attention
/ `: m1 }+ W5 k) ]/ _( I0 S We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
2 d) Q; v/ A% I. |% o0 P( p The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
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