I love this Irish funeral poem as it embodies our immoral presence: 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 a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun 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 circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die... ~ Mary Elizabeth Frye Also sharing a celtic rock version as a ballad which is also hauntingly beautiful. :) youtu.be/R_1DpStgzhY
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 18:58:35 +0000