I found this poem by accident while in a beauty salon. I have been trying to decide to go ahead with a cord blood transplant for many months. It was very ironic that I would see this. I wanted to share it with those it may help.
One day you finally knew
what you had to do and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried
But you didnt stop
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations
through their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the starts began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
.
