"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 autumn rain. When you waken in the morning hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of the quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die." --Mary Frye (1932)
Copyright @ 2007-2009, James Mark Valsame, Raleigh, NC. Reproduction or publication of this material without the expressed permission of the compiler is prohibited.