A Bereavement Verse by: Mary Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there – I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow,

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush

I am the swift-up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there – I did not die

 

By: Mary Frye

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About spartinlaws

I am a photographer, and I live my life the best way that I can: Happily.
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