Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not their 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 field of rippenng grain,
I am the morning hush,
I am the gracefull rush of beutyfull birds in circling flightt,
I am the sunshine of the night,
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quite room,
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each loveing thing,
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not their. I do not die.
Emma
30th April 2008