Thursday, 28 February 2013

That's a good one

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep 
 
 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 sun on ripened grain, 
I am the gentle autumn rain. 
When you awaken in the morning’s hush 
I am the swift uplifting rush 
Of quiet birds in circling flight. 
I am the soft starlight at night. 
Do not stand at my grave and cry, 
I am not there; I did not die.


                                                                                Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932