Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Do Not Stand...

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.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Who wrote that, Mary?

Stephanie said...

I have always felt that this poem is unhelpful. I have attended two funerals this month and feel that "I did not die" is unlikely to be believed by the bereaved who clearly remember closing the lid on that person's coffin a little earlier in the day. (This is not a criticism of you, by the way, but the poet. I do appreciate your site and thank you for your efforts.)