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 hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of 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.
*Though this is not credited on the printed version of this poem, it has since come to my attention that the author is Mary Elizabeth Frye, and that the poem was written by her in 1932. For more about this poem, including an earlier version of it, and the author’s stated intention for the poem to “belong to the world,” see this page.
Calligraphy and design by Cari Ferraro, 1994
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