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| | From:  Lady-Hawke (Original Message) | Sent: 2/14/2008 10:24 PM |
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. By Mary Frye |
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Oh hon, we posted this same poem at almost exactly the same time ... different words though... Thank you so much! I knew there were more versions  Love and hugs Rowan |
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You two must be on similar wavelengths--both of you posting the same poem-just different versions of it--at almost exactly the same time--neat--I don't believe in coincidence. Damian |
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Damian~ I think you may be right! Rowan~ Hunny, I looked at several versions but in an interview in 2000, She stated that this was the original version~ and for me it feels like it flows more fluidly! LOL!  Can't you just tell I am a wannabe poet!! Hugs Falcon |
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That's so funny because I got my version from Ann Landers column, years ago, and it was supposed to be the original version. Isn't it something that views change over time. It really doesn't matter which is the original, but which resonates within. I have the clipping from the newspaper and keep it with my mothers memorial information. It struck me when I read it and I kept it in my drawer for years just knowing I would be reading it for someone I loved. |
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Oops, my finger moved to send too fast lol... Damian, you are right... there are no coincidences ... things happen for a reason! Rowan |
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