woensdag 23 september 2009

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not here. I am not asleep.
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 rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft stars shining in the night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not here...

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