Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Until we meet again...

 
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.
 
-Mary Elizabeth Frye
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Rest In Peace, Uncle Al.
 


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