Poetry Breakfast #23 – Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do Not Sit By My Plate And Weep
(that was deep, Mary Elizabeth Fryer)

Do not sit by my plate and weep
I am not there. I do not eat.
I am a thousand cows that moo.
I am the candle’s glint on stew.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the ripened bunch of plantain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of coffee ground, about to brew.
I am the table set, refreshed anew.
Do not sit by my plate and pine;
I am not there. I did not dine.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye

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.

Source: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/do-not-stand-at-my-grave-and-weep/