Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

sunday-at-heritage

I chanced upon this poem while going through some blogs the other night. It had touched something in me, one that I’ve been struggling with this past year. While I’ve always done my best to truly believe that Mariel is in a far better place now, the “human” part of me still craves for greater certainty and more reassurance. I guess I’ve got my ANSWER now. Maybe Mariel even helped me find this one. So I’d like to share this poem with you today. Perhaps you too can find some answers in it.

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep–  by Mary 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.”

(A truly wonderful poem that has an interesting story relating to its origin that probably deserves a separate post.)