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 gentle 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 soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there; I did not die.

I am not there......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Brother, my love
The Weaver
Soul Mates
Desiderata
Sacred Light
Road Not Taken
Antiquity
"If"
See Me!