Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP
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 of snow.
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.

Poem by Mary Frye, a Baltimore homemaker, who wrote this, her first poem, in 1932 to console her friend Margaret who was grieving the death of her mother. Margaret cried that she was not able to visit her mother's grave to say goodbye because she died in Germany during Hitler's powerful reign. The poem came to Mary while she was checking off a list of groceries so she gave it to Margaret written on a torn grocery sack.

Acknowledgment: I first read this at Janet Lanier's blog at http://janetlanier.com

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