Awake #2

[madman101]

1932 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 glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle Autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift up-lifting rush
of quiet birds in 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.