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Aug 2014
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.
This is the poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye,who died 10 years ago. It is written in 1932. I really like this poem,so I wanted to share it with you.
Sofia
Written by
Sofia
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