Emily Danger

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 glint on the snow; 
I am the sunlight on ripened grain; 
I am the gentle rain.
When you waken 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. 
I am not there. 
I did not die.
For everything beautiful that you see 
will bring a memory of me.

 Mary Elizabeth Frye


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