Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

I found this on this wonderful poetry website by Chesil :

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 sunlight 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 circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.

I did not die.

Nobody knows who the author of this poem was, but a copy of this was left in an envelope for his parents by Steven Cummins, a soldier killed on active service in Northern Ireland, to be opened in the event of his death. In the weeks that followed the first broadcast, some 30,000 copies were requested from the BBC programme : the Bookworm.

This is dedicated to la Idler. I did not know you, but thank you for reminding us of the fragility of life.

I'll be giving my wife and 2 children extra long hugs tonight...