March 2012
12 posts
February 2012
58 posts
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 sun on ripened grain,I am the gentle autumn rain.When you awaken in the morning’s hushI am the swift uplifting rushOf quiet birds in circling flight.I am the soft star-shine at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry,I am not there; I did not die.
“I would follow him and kiss the misery from his skin, and shake him and tell him that she won’t love him like I do”.
