Sunday, April 1, 2007

IN LOVING MEMORY OF A BELOVED FATHER AND GRANDFATHER

In the words attributed to Mary 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 sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's 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 cry,
I am not there; I did not die.














2 comments:

Lillian Feisty said...

Hugs, Sweets. That poem is so touching.

R.G. ALEXANDER said...

That is truly beautiful