Do not stand on my grave and weep.
I'm not there,i do not sleep.
I am a thousand wind that blow.
I am the diamant glint on snow.
I am the sunlicht on wipened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake up in the morning hush.
I am the swift uplighting rush.
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand on my grave and weep.
I am not there.,i do not sleep
Een gedicht van: Mary Elisabeth Frye
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten