Do not stand at my grave and forever 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 awaken 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 forever cry. I am not there. I did not
die.
--Submited by Shannon Bates |
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