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 sunlight on 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.
Update:I’ve been sent this link: – http://www.businessballs.com/donotstandatmygraveandweep.htm which means this poem is believed to be by Mary Frye.
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little – but not for long.
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that once we shared.
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we must all take,
And each must go alone.
It’s all part of the master plan,
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart,
Go to the friends we know,
Laugh at all the things we used to do.
Miss me, but let me go.
Don’t cry for me now I have died, for I’m still here I’m by your side,
My body’s gone but my soul’s is here, please don’t shed another tear,
I am still here I’m all around, only my body lies in the ground.
I am the snowflake that kisses your nose,
I am the frost, that nips your toes.
I am the sun ,bringing you light,
I am the star, shining so bright.
I am the rain, refreshing the earth,
I am the laughter, I am the mirth.
I am the bird, up in the sky,
I am the cloud, that’s drifting by.
I am the thoughts, inside your head,
While I’m still there, I can’t be dead.
Not, how did he die, but how did he live?Not, how did he die, but how did he live?
Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of his birth.
Nor what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with words of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away? Anonymous
I’ve been thinking about the word ‘change’ and the effect it has on people….especially in the church.
I recently heard the song – Mrs Beamish by Richard Stilgoe & Peter Skellern….which has a funny take on change
When I returned from holiday I found this poem about change….about welcoming change, which whilst not as funny as Mrs Beamish is a more positive view of change.
WELCOME CHANGE by Gina WhitacreChange is inevitable, But yet we fight it, just the same. Change is essential to our evolution. Change is going to happen, In fact, it happens every day, Maybe it is too small to see, or perhaps we would rather not see it. We fight change, because we fight the unknown, We fight the unknown, because we are scared, Scared of change, scared of the unknown. If we were to allow change to happen freely, We might find solutions to the problems that exist around us, But instead, we are hung – up on controlling everything around us. Maybe this is the problem with the world today. Everyone assumes control of everything and does not allow nature to run her course. Maybe this is why, we have devastating fall out from Nature, Natural catastrophic disasters, such as fire and flooding. We fight change, therefore we are fighting nature and her natural being and her existence in the world that she has created by God’s hand and has graciously allowed us to be a part of . We should welcome change and allow nature to control our destiny. Change is uncontrollable, Change is inevitable, Change is the unknown. Nature takes pride in being one of life’s illusive wonders, the unknown.