Footsteps

If I should die tomorrow
there would be many sorrows
but the deeper print
of my name
would carry you through
the pain

And if you should hear me laugh
I am only playing a game
Hold on, hold on, to the centre
until I find my way again.




I posted part of this poem before, in May last year while I was still battling it out in hospital. I am re-posting it with a new verse, for my blogfriend Renee, whose battle with Stage 4 Inflammatory Breast Cancer, has been described by the doctors as the beginning of the end. Awful phrase. Renee would scoff at it, if she felt more like herself. It is an extraordinary experience to have one's life touched so deeply by a stranger impossible to meet in this lifetime. But she has left her print upon me, the deepest imprint of her name. Renee. Find your way, Renee.