Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die."
By Mary Frye of Baltimore, Maryland in 1932
We are sorry to hear about Tim. Thoughts and purrs are with you.
ReplyDeleteOh how I love that photo and this poem. How fitting that you should put them together, Anya.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. Tim would be pleased as punch!
Goodbye sweet Tiny Tim, fly free at The Bridge.
ReplyDeleteRumbly purrs and love
Whicky Wuudler
Lovely photo of him enjoying the sun!
ReplyDeletewhat a beautiful poem for a beautiful kitty
ReplyDelete