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-light on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush.
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
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