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Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(1) I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
(2) When you wake in the morning 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 weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)
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Thanks you for posting this Rustic feather, I have been looking for this poem for some time and have just joined this site, I guess I was meant to find you all here and this is my proof, God Bless you all, Eileen aka Mysticx |
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Spirit can act in mysterious ways Eileen. It's good to have you here and I'm so glad you have been given proof. Take care, Love Dxxxx |
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How weird is that i was talking about this poem to my mum the other day and she said i rememeber the poem it was in a book you once had. That i am unable to find. Decided to look on the poems and there it was Thankyou Trace xx |
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