Caleb and the Mountain

He was a youth with falcon eyes, and hair as white as snow,

With arms of Spirit clinging to a hill of long ago.

“What would you choose,” ask Joshua, “of Canaan’s choicy spoil?”

“The mountain!” cried the ancient youth who feared no war nor toil.

When Moses first had sent them, the twelve, to spy alone,

The eyes of Caleb scaled the hill; he knew it was his own—

The Mount called Hebron—this he knew upon his bended knee;

He would return, God willing, to enter joyfully

The task of driving giants from off the wooded hill,

As clinging to his vision, he would return! Until

That day, no matter when, he’d keep the vision bright,

Of vineyards on the hillsides, and springs that catch the light.

The honeycomb within the tree was tender, pale, and sweet,

With ruby-red pomegranate juice and giant grapes to eat,

Yet, as they stood by Eschol and scanned the distant way,

They saw the giants stalking and knew that danger lay

Within the lush, sweet borders of this, the teeming soil,

This land of milk and honey.  They gathered sample soil

On soft feet still as moonlight; when forty days had passed,

They hastened to their camp again, for their report at last.

“Let us go … possess it,” young Caleb stood his ground;

But of the spies, one other was all that could be found

Whose eyes and heart went marching to live on victor’s ground.

So, after words and conflict, and tragedy’s black night,

The Israelites meandered on, with Canaan far from sight.

From year to year upon his bed within the wilderness

He looked up through the harplike trees, still hungry to possess

His hill.  And so the heat and cold of many barren years,

And plagues to dull the vision and multiply man’s fears.

Yet Caleb dreamed, “The hill is mine! Oh keep me strong, my God,

Until I stand upon the height, possessor of its sod!”

And through his heavy coal-black locks the silver sheen of years

Soon touched his hair, transforming him; and yet he owned no fears.

Then after long heart-breaking toil Sweet Canaan loomed in sight.

They crossed the Jordan River; God’s anger led the fight!

From victory to victory they marched, from gain to gain.

And Caleb thrilled, his eyes ahead.  He spoke to Joshua then,

“Now therefore, give this mountain.  I am as strong this day.”

And Joshua gave, and blessed him, and Caleb’s dream, they say,

Become a living symbol for all who long and roam

With instinct crying in the breast, “In Canaan there’s a home!

It calls me, calls me—beyond the Jordan blue,

So sweet, through bright with danger—and I am going through!”

--Maggie Culver Fry