Joy is the Mountain, by Eve Lockett

Recently, the opening words of a poem began to form themselves in my head and I started writing. It took me a while to work out what had triggered them. Then I remembered I’d been listening on iPlayer to Dante’s Divine Comedy dramatized for radio. I’d only read snatches of Dante before, and had never taken it in as a whole work. Some of the ideas and dramatic scenes had particularly caught my imagination, including the inspiration for my poem: those wandering souls rejected by heaven and hell alike, trapped between heaven’s delights and hell’s torments. These were the uncommitted, men and women who had made no choices in life out of conviction or defiance but only out of self-preservation.

I didn’t take too literally Dante’s 14^thcentury Catholic theology, but I was struck by the warning he was trying to convey. Various biblical phrases came to my mind – ‘neither hot nor cold…’, ‘those who shrink back and are lost…’, the rich young ruler, ‘he who saves his life will lose it…’ It is part of the extraordinary message of Christian faith that we are not required just to be obedient, to avoid sinful acts, to behave. God calls us to love, to give ourselves, to embrace life, to taste and see, to delight. This can be far harder than good behaviour; perhaps increasingly so as we get older, and the natural enthusiasm and joy of younger days is replaced by caution, moderation and a narrower vision. But the joy of Christ doesn’t spring from our human energies; it arises from the presence of God in our hearts. It is his joy, a timeless and ageless gift. 

So my poem is about joy missed. I found I couldn’t make it ‘all right in the end’ because the whole point was to highlight how essential it is to say ‘yes’ to life and not just cling to survival. As always, the message is for me before it is for anyone else. Although it wouldn’t be true to say the poem is autobiographical, sometimes it seems to take all my energy to do very little and go nowhere. Dare I let myself be surprised by joy? ‘Let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.’

Joy is the Mountain

Joy is the mountain I never sought to climb;

I stayed instead on level ground,

Biding my time.

Joy is a fire; I never sought its flame

But drew my warmth from temperance,

Always the same.

Joy is the river I never sought to cross;

I stepped back from its hidden depths,

Afraid of loss.

Joy is the stranger I never took to heart;

But wrapped myself in carefulness,

Keeping apart.

Joy is the music the Saviour sought to teach;

Such pity in his outstretched hand,

Beyond my reach.