My nephew
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Joined: Nov 2002
Posts: 45,244
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From: Arlington, VA
For those who have not seen this poem, it is a favorite of mine. I had it read at the burial. It seemed most appropriate, since my nephew loved the outdoors.
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP
Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)
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 star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP
Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)
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 star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.
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