ladyegwene

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there
I do not sleep.

I am a thosand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunligt 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 on circled flight
I am the stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die.

-Mary Frye-

Vi ses i Nangijala

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