Do not stand
By 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 sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave and cry–
I am not there;
I did not die.
--Clare Harner, The Gypsy
In November we remember All Souls…
Image source: https://www.reconnectwithnature.org/news-events/the-buzz/nature-curiosity-why-some-snow-sparkles/
Poem source
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