One Holy Moment

Born in different centuries,

You and I, an ocean apart,

And half a continent.

Never would our lives touch

But for this holy moment

In a temple of our God.

I would meet you if I could.

Who were you, friend?

Father, farmer, tutor, craftsman?

Did you buy, or sell, or plow?

Was there family by your fire,

And love to ease your passage?

Did you know joy in your years?

I hope you know it now,

As our lives touch

In this sacred moment,

My one brief chance to serve.

Would that I could reach a hand

Across two hundred years,

Or put an arm across a shoulder

To tell you what I feel:

“Welcome, brother—welcome here.”