The Hall Where The Little Feet Patter

I and he, they and we, together we fought the demon residing in me

There were potions, there were tears, all and more to break my fears

I am me, reclaimed, no more vertigo on the ground nor in the sound

If my nightmares veil what’s actual and true, and I slip into a coma the whole night through

   I drift back to the hall where the little feet patter,

where instead of the bliss was only empty matter

I curled up in a ball, as they did in my womb

If I lay down in the room, in my parents house,

If I lay on my side, with my loving spouse

He’ll whisper “ordinary day, come back to me, find your pace, you’ll find your way”

If I cover my ears, I’ll disappear and won’t hear

Close my eyes imagine no guilt or responsibility

I will gain sleep, and maybe ability

If they don’t need me I’ll sleep forever 

Remove my hand from my ear or never hear the truth

  Take the weight off my soul so I can be Ruth

Puppeteer of the sky, be my ally so I can be me, unravel the snake so I can be free

Close your eyes, we say sleep, we say rest, we are here, we will wait

They will leap, they will want, they will cry, they will feed, they do need, please do heed

We; who are here, we; who will pray, I beg you to do so, they need you to stay

The tiny footsteps drum on the floor and so I awake, only to find that I still only ache

In the beautiful house the tiny footsteps echo through, twelve or so, find every shoe

If they don’t require me, I won’t take the dive to make sure I survive

I grind my nails, my fists will remind, wail to the King, demand he stops this sting

I will stop the torment, the end of being dormant

I boxed till my knuckles bled, kicked and screamed so to not be found dead

In the eleventh hour he sanctioned my distressed calls; and condemned those possessed walls

With exquisite power, I was left with an enchanted flower

It had eight petals, little alluring medals; honey brown, glorious greens, hues of baby blues,

And a grey that will one day take her breath away

I and he, they and we, hands down have broken the spell of my short lived hell

I planted that flower, with all its glorious power;

once again I pray, I watch it grow everyday, with love and hunger we devour

Now we tower, they and we, full of strength 

full of glee


the flower bloomed into a immovable tree



6 thoughts on “The Hall Where The Little Feet Patter

  1. Ruth you weathered a storm with such grace that most women fight for so much longer and harder. Your strength is amazing. I love you and always know you have my support. You are truly an inspiration to other women.


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