She woke up to the attic floor,
Old wood speaking through the house once more,
Those careful footsteps she had come to know,
Before the dawn and before the coffee stove.
He’d go up there when the world got still,
Where cardboard boxes held another life,
Dust and photographs and letters folded thin,
Little pieces time forgot to hide.
⸻
Verse 2
She stirred her coffee in the quiet dawn,
Put her worn-out slippers on,
Crossword waiting by her chair below,
While the house breathed soft and slow.
Then the rustling stopped halfway,
And silence filled the hall,
She heard him trying not to break,
Trying not to cry at all.
⸻
Pre-Chorus
She walked softly to the staircase,
Hand against the painted wall,
And whispered upward through the darkness,
“Hey… you alright up there at all?”
⸻
Chorus
He said,
“I saw him looking through the picture frame…
Like somehow he could see us here today,
And there was something in his eyes
That caught me by surprise…
Like he knew.
Like they all knew.
Like every prayer and every sacrifice
Was building something bigger for our lives,
And all this love passed down through time
Was never really gone.”
⸻
Verse 3
He said,
“It felt like he was standing in the room,
Not as memory, but something living too,
Like all the saints and all the ones before
Still walk beside us somehow through the Lord.”
“And maybe heaven’s closer than we think,
Maybe time ain’t quite the wall it seems,
Maybe all the ones we miss the most
Still see more than we believe.”
⸻
Bridge
And she sat back down beside her coffee cup,
Felt the morning sunlight warming up,
And somewhere deep inside her chest
The ache and peace both came to rest.
And the house grew still again,
But not the way it was before,
Because love had filled the ordinary air
Like footsteps crossing heaven’s floor.
⸻
Final Chorus
“I saw him looking through the picture frame…
Like he’d been waiting for this day,
And there was kindness in his eyes
Like he was saying we’re alright.
Keep going.
We’re with you.
And all the years and all the sorrow too
Will someday make a kind of perfect view,
Where every soul we’ve ever loved
Will finally all belong.”
< Origin Words >
Running Down Vimy 