The Easter Promise

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Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep

I am in a thousand winds that blow

I am the softly falling snow

I am the gentle showers of rain

I am the fields of ripening grain

I am in the morning hush

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight

I am the starshine of the night

I am in the flowers that bloom

I am in a quiet room

I am the birds that sing

I am in each lovely thing

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there, I did not die.


Mary Elizabeth Frye, Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep.

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