by Mary Frye (1932)
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 glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning 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 weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
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1 comment:
Somehow I missed seeing that you have a poetry blog. It looks very good. I'll add a link from mine the next time I do an update.
Thanks for the kind comments about my poem. I think I accidentally blocked one (sorry!), but I do appreciate it very much!
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