my granny

[vagoina]

My Gran died last night, peacefully, with all her family around her. This is a little verse I looked up, I think it fits my gran well:

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 mornings hush
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.