There's an odd sensation stirring--like a sense of déjà vu--
Here about our humble dwelling; and it's humbled me and you.
Enchanting quiet covers--like the covering of the snow--
Every single childless moment since the children had to go.

My thoughts drift back to early days, when life with you was new;
Peaceful hours spent together, and interruptions were so few.
Then, excitement filled our home--all the clatter and the noise;
You remember all the hubbub that accompanies growing boys.

Now an odd sensation's stirring--like a sense of vuja de--
Every quiet moment lingers in a quietly different way.
Seems like nothing that has happened in our living up to now
Trained us for these quiet moments! What's the difference anyhow?

Someday..Maybe..If God wills! --was a life of sweet projection;
Yearning for the gift of children--blessed fruit of close affection.
Now together, as when we started, we've a life of sweet reflection;
Drawing from our gift of children the blessed fruit of recollection.

Recalling sense of déjà vu --this has happened once before--
Oneness shared in the beginning--oneness shared as they left our door.
Mysterious sense of vuja de --nothing like this has happened before--
Every moment gently opening new depths to something more.

--wcm--5 Sept. 97