Facebook wisdom again, for Blyss

I keep coming across this beautiful poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye, so I decided to make a copy of it for my Blog.  I believe I will feel this way when I die.  And, I want to think that the people I love will be in this state, as well.  I just wish I could feel this comfortable about the death of my borzoi, but of course, we all know that is too terrible a thing for me.   I cannot accept that.  I am nothing; they are everything I ever had worth anything good.  If I was ever good, it was because of them.

“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 the 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 circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at  night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there.  I did not die.”