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's rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rushof 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.
(This was the poem on my father's mass card and it really means a lot to me.)
I wish I understood then, what I know now.... I would have been so much more grateful for him.
No comments:
Post a Comment