Friday, October 21, 2011

Native American Poem

Don't stand by my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamonds glint on snow.
I'm sunlight on the the ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn's rain.
Don't stand by my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.
- Mary Elizabeth Frye


Photo Credit: Melia Metikos 2011

1 comment:

Chantelle Says said...
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