I owe you thousands of love

January 06

Do not stand at my grave and weep

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

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.

7:49:41 PM | Blog it

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ting xuwrote:

planed to say...that's never 2 late...

Jan. 6

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