Poems and Thoughts

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

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.

This is another favourite poem of mine written by Mary Elizabeth Frye in 1932, which has been translated into Danish, Dutch, French, German, Hebrew, Japanese, Korean, Russian, Spanish, Swedish and other languages

She wrote it to comfort a family friend who had just lost her mother and was unable to even visit her grave.

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