Acceptance Poem by Justin Baird

Who says that I am dead knows not.
Of this lost tale that was never taught

Do not stand upon my grave and weep
I am not there and I do not sleep
I am the hot sun on cracked wheat
The fresh rain that soothes the scorched heat
The call of doves in a magnificent spring sky
The joy of love as it passes you by
The light in the cave which makes you see
The branch of peace from the olive tree

So do not wave your hands in goodbye
Do not shed tears or bring yourself to cry
I am not there, and I did not die
I am thou, and thou art I.