(no subject)
As probably everybody knows by now, a well loved teacher, Mrs. Sauvage, passed away yesterday. Her death took me by surprise, considering the fact that she was up and walking not too long ago. I personally never got the chance to know her, which I deeply regret, but from what I've heard, she was loved by everyone that did know her. I don't really know what to do, except pray for her family's safety through these hard times. I was able to find this poem, so although it's not much, at least its something.
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 awaken in the mornings 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.
By: Mary E. Fryer
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 awaken in the mornings 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.
By: Mary E. Fryer