Wish you were here
"Do not stand at my grave and
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousands winds that blow,
I am the diamond gilt on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the wift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds circle 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."
Take the tour
or return to poetry hideout
©Wayward Design 99'