Dec 7, 2009


Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

This morning I received a letter with this wonderful poem.
A dear friend of mine wanted to share it with me and it really touched my soul.
In return I wanted to share it with you :)


Kate at Serendipity said...

Thanks for this poem.

And for this photo.

Anonymous said...

Dear Sas,
I needed this utterly ineffable
poem today. Thank you
missy from the bayou

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