The Pilgrimage

I wrote the following prose poem under the inspiration of John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress and C. S. Lewis’s The Last Battle.

The Pilgrimage
—From the Valley of Vision to the Mountain of Majesty

“For the Vision was given to you in the Valley, so that you may have faith in the Majesty you shall behold on the Mountain.”

In my dream I saw a pilgrim
With a Burden on his back
Treading through a Deep Valley.
The path wound and darkness
Loomed in like thick fog.
The Burden grew heavier each new step
He took, and his heart became
lonelier, sadder, and emptier.
Not a sign of life but him alone
Who saw himself no different than
A dead creature, such a lifeless soul
Wandering in a lifeless darkness.
Not a sound of hope but his own breath
With a faint sound, such a hopeless sound
Awaiting to be devoured by a hopeless silence.
Yet with the last breath of his life, he cried out
In desperation, for a deliverance from
Darkness, lifelessness, and hopelessness.

Even as he was crying, a light befell him,
Blinded him of his path and there,
Along with the light, came forth a delicious smell
So soothing and enchanting—the smell
Put the weary soul into a deep sleep.
In his unconsciousness he was given
A Vision, in which he saw
At the far end of the Valley
The path led to a Great Mountain,
And from the top of the Mountain
Shone rays of a Great Light, a Light
So bright, so beautiful no words could describe.
He stood beholding the Light in awe and saw
As far as the Light was, Its radiance lit up
The Valley with ineffable glory. Then he heard
Voices of the utmost beauty, singing great songs of praise
As if waterfalls pouring down from the Mountaintop
Where the source of the Light dwelt.
His heart leaped with joy when he heard
A Great Voice, distinct from the Singing Voices
And with inexpressible loudness, calling to him:
“Come, my son, further up and further in!”

All the sudden he woke up and was certain
If he had heard the Great Voice alive
He would have been dead almost instantly.
Then he saw everything around him
Still the same as before—a Deep Valley in
Lifeless darkness and hopeless silence.
Nothing seemed to have changed. But wait—
What about the Vision? Was it real?
As he looked yonder, he hoped to see
At the end of the path the Great Mountain might be—
But only to find a slope of the Valley reside.
A lie, thought he, there’s no such Mountain.
But wait—where’s did the Burden go?
All the sudden he realized how free he was,
For he could no more see or feel the Burden
On his back, nor found it anywhere around.
It couldn’t have been lost on the way, thought he,
for he was carrying it all along—even when he fainted.
It simply disappeared, thought he, and there must be
Something in the Vision that took the Burden away.
If so, thought he, the Vision must be real.

Again he looked yonder and saw
No sight of the Great Mountain; but he believed.
Along with belief, came strength, courage and,
Above all, hope. He now walked with
A changed heart, despite the unchanging Valley.
The end of the path was finally reached,
And he was indeed standing
At the bottom of the Valley slope.
But wait, wait a minute!
There, before him, a new path began
Where the old path ended, and it’s going up, high above
The ground and going in, deep into—wait,
It’s further up and further in—O, the Great Mountain!
What joy overflowed his heart!
And what revelation came to his mind—
Surely, the bottom of the Deep Valley was
The very foot of the Great Mountain!
And the new path to the Great Mountain
Should come only after passing through
The old path from the Deep Valley.

At the entrance of the new path he saw
A great stone with these words written:
“For the Vision was given to you in the Valley
So that you may have faith in
The Majesty you shall behold on the Mountain.”
The journey he then took on was
A journey from darkness to light,
With each new step leading to
More beauty, deeper wonder, and greater glory.
What he saw and heard was very much like
What was in his Vision except here it was
Not Their shadows but the Real Things Themselves—
So real that no dream or vision could fully display.
And the stories happened along the new path were
Simply too grand and wonderful to be written down.
For at the foot of the Great Mountain he was beginning
The First Step of the Real Pilgrimage, a journey
No pilgrim on earth ever traveled: which goes on
Forever and ever: in which every step is better
Than the one before.