Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in a mornings rush,
I am the swift up lifting rush.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
(i did not write this. i'm not sure who did, but all credit goes to the author.)
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in a mornings rush,
I am the swift up lifting rush.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
(i did not write this. i'm not sure who did, but all credit goes to the author.)