Footsteps From Above
In this father’s mind, there is no other kind
Of noises that so resemble love
As the sounds that come from there, atop of the stairs
The patter of footsteps from above.
They’re scurrying about, the youngest one will shout
His sister just gave him a shove
Then she’ll plead her case, “Dad, he’s in my face”,
The patter of footsteps from above.
I know that one day, those noises will fade,
The patter of footsteps from above,
As the children grow old and their future is told,
And they vacate the nest like a dove.
But one day it’ll be back, from their own kids in fact,
The patter of footsteps from above,
When they come see granddad, and again I’ll be glad,
To hear those sounds I love coming from above.
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