TheWorldWontEndTomorrow

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 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 there at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. -Mary Elizabeth Frye

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