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 a diamond's glint on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's rain
When you're awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift unlifting 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..

ELEGY
-joyce forsen




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