GRIEF AND GRIEVING
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 on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
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.
This poem, that is sometimes listed as written by an anonymous poet and sometimes by Mary Elizabeth Frye, touches me deeply every time I read it.