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Sunday, January 21, 2007

 

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 sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning 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.
Mary Frye

Comments:
you made me cry... such a beautiful poem- and a picture...
thanks -
 
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