Monday, December 10, 2012

For those who have lost someone.  A beautiful Native American Poem

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 sun 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 circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there;
I did not die.