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02-08-2007, 05:06 PM | #1 | |||
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Junior Member
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One of your posts reminded me of this poem which used to hang on my refrigerator - my mother spent many years as a hospice nurse, and used to give a copy of this poem to many of the family members of her patients.
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 Frye |
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