If someone peered into the sky
Through the lens of a giant eye
Constructed to bring visions of
Events that take place up above,

He’d see up close what happened when
The image as it parted then
Traveled at the speed of light
Until it met the viewer’s sight.

The time it took to travel far
From distant planet near a star
Took thirty-two years measured by
Time perceived by the viewing guy.

The man whose age of thirty-two
Focused an image into view.
He saw a child being born
As he gazed on a distant morn.

This child must now be thirty-two,
He thought, the age that I am too,
I wonder what he came to be?
Could he be looking back at me?

And if he is what would he see?
Is he watching the birth of me?
He thought about the light that went
From distant world, The time it spent

As it traveled from there to me,
Time for the image ceased to be,
Only one moment is of need
For time stands still while at light speed.

He pondered then, I wonder how
The image always is in now
But now is when I see the joy
Of parents with their new-born boy.

And now permits that he might see
At the same time the birth of me
So now must be just the time when
Our present is the other’s then.

But that must mean the other’s now
Is far into my past—but how
Can both these possibilities be true
If time moves only forward too?