Monday, October 20, 2014


attributed to Mary Elizabeth Frye

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 gently autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand and my grave and cry;
I am not there.  I did not die.

from The Nation's Favorite Poems edited by Griff Rhys-Jones, 1996, BBC Books

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