Autumn Rain

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 upon the snow.
I am the sunlight on a ripened grain and
I am the gentle autum rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am that swift up lifting rush,
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I amthe soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.

by Dana Rucinski

Comments (1)

I must say it was a very pleasant read. Thank you, Pax Vobiscum Stephen