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

I am a thousand winds that swiftly blow.
I am the diamond glint
on newly fallen snow.
I am the sunlight
on ripened grain.
I am the soft and gentle autumn rain.

When you wake from sleep in the early morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft, starlight at night.

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

 

And we were sad
Thinking of the
Times we’d had

A butterfly
Then came to us
Flew around
Without a rush

Showed us how
He’d been set free
Drifting off
Where we can’t see

Helped us know
He’s on his way
We’ll treasure this
Each passing day.
~Sharon Kortas

Ree-purrted by Sophia



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