Recent losses

Two of my friends and students recently suddenly lost their wives. To them, and in the memory of Laura and Joyce, I offer this.

 

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 shining stars at 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 do not die.

 

Mary Frye,  Baltimore  Maryland,  1932