Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
by Mary Elizabeth Frye
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 glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning's 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 cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
(poem courtesy of Rachelle Benveniste)
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Tags: writing, writers, authors, literature, Rachelle Benveniste, poet, writer, writing teacher
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