RIP my brother

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 glint on snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain

When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight
I am the soft starlight at night

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

JOYCE FOSSEN