AT MY GRAVE

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    The following is one of my favorite poems.

    Personally, I feel the poem speaks as much about the

    living as it does the dead. Who we really are is apart

    of everything that exists, has existed and is yet tocome.

    I hope you enjoy :)

    ~ At My Grave~

    Do not stand at my grave

    and weepI am not there, I do not sleep.

    I am a thousand winds thatblowI am the diamond glint on

    snow.I am the sunlight on ripenedgrainI am the gentle autumn rain.

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    When you wake in themorning hush

    I am the swift uplifting rushOf quiet birds in circling flightI am the soft stars that shineat night.

    Do not stand at my grave

    and cryI am not there, I did not die.

    Mary E. Frye (1932)