Tuesday, December 14, 2010

I am not there. I did not die.

Dear Psychiatrist ,

When I die recite this ...


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.

1 comment:

Gunny said...

I notice you haven't written in a long time. Can I somehow persuade you to update the blog?