In the hour before the children wake,
When it is still quiet and dark,
There’s some coffee brewing in the pot.
We talk about our little ones, about
How they’ve grown and all that they do.
Soon they’ll travel and be elsewhere.
It’s so precious, our time with them,
That like greedy ones, we want more.

Our moments of deepest joy were
When we held our babies in our hands.
It’s the one joy we want forever,
And yet we’ll let it go for them to grow.
That’s what make this so different,
In this, our utterly self-centered mind –
A quiet, fiercely protective, tender love,
Careless of itself, vulnerable and giving,
Even to the point of its own dissolution.

There’s more coffee brewing in this pot.