MEMORIAL
Do not stand at my grave and weep …
I am not there
I do not sleep
I am a vagrant wind that flees
I am the teasing light on trees
I am the sun upon the plain
I am the gentle summer rain
Do not stand at my grave and grieve …
I am not there
I did not leave
When you awake in morning’s hush
I am the wondrous surging rush
Of outback birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry …
I am not there
I did not die

A very sensitive and comforting poem.
Beautiful!
Linda Smidt
the Netherlands
— Linda Smidt · 21 June 2009 · #