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.
i miss some people in my life.
and i love them.
avec amour,
athina.
No comments:
Post a Comment