Briang50's Journal

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not here. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints on snow

I am sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awake 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.

- Anonymous