My Meetings with Joseph

Even today there’s a lump in my throat,
As I think on our meetings.

Oh, you won’t remember them Joseph,
Because I speak of figurative encounters.
But they are as real as anything I know.
I remember so many of them—

Two years of daily study of the Doctrine and Covenants;
Many readings of the Book of Mormon;
Pondering those old Nauvoo postcards which have no value
To anyone but me.

Singing “The Spirit of God” and feeling that burning
Within my bosom over and over again.
And “Hail to the Prophet”!
I can hardly sing it without shedding a tear.

I have a small statue of you and Hiram sitting on my desk,
A small reminder of the greatness of you both,
And just how much I am indebted to you.

"Teachings" was perhaps our closest encounter,
As I felt the power of God conveyed to me
Through your own inspired and inspiring words.

I visited your home in New York--
Such a wonderful spirit is still there.
I took that same walk you did, into the sacred grove
Where it all began.

Each meeting is a learning experience for me,
Pushing me ever closer to the Savior,
Changing me forever
In so many good ways.

I long to be with Him, and with you.
But for now I must be content--content to work
In my little field
Sowing seeds of the same fruit He first planted.

When we meet in person, you won’t know me—
At least, not my name.
But if you look into my eyes,
You will surely see how much I love you--
A true prophet of God.