Mary Elizabeth Frye, around 1950

Do not stand at my grave and weep
Text and poetry collection of images from search
 

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.

Not an advertisement, but looks like it

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 morning’s 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.

 

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