Do not stand and start weeping,
I’m not there; I’m not sleeping,
I’m the wind that blows and blows,
I’m the diamond glint in the snows,
I’m the sunlight on the ripening grain,
I’m the gentle patter of the rain,
When you awake I’m the morning hush,
I am then the swift uprising rush,
Of the birds in circled flight,
I’m the stars that shine through out the night,
Do not stand and forever cry,
I’m not there; I did not die,
Don’t think of me as if I’ve gone,
When in reality I’ve just moved on.
Taxidave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Taxidave, all wonderful reminders of someone who has moved on into another realm of existence... beautifully done. Brian