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I found this poem so helpful, I hope some on the forum may find it helps, too.
It is by Mary Elizabeth Frye, and is titled “Do not stand at my grave and weep”. It helped me after the death of my father whilst I was overseas, not being able to visit his grave became a form of guilt I struggled to tackle. This poem helped me see him, and feel him, in the world around me. I hope it helps someone else, as much as it helped me.
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.
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