Do not stand at my grave and weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye)
Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there, I did not die. |