Recently, I had to give a eulogy for a dear friend.  I chose to include this poem in the service. It is one of the most touching poems to remind us that we are part of all nature wherever we are.   Ma’s ancestors are forever in the winds.

What are your thoughts on this concept?

Man grieves but rejoices in nature


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 sun 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 circling flight.

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.


(Mary Frye 1935)

Kaye Linden

4 Comments on “”

  1. Mary Bast

    Years ago I found a somewhat different version, posted in the Northwest Indian News. I guess it’s going the way of popular poems that are memorized and altered through many recitations. It is a lovely vision. I’ve been thinking lately that we’ll also share atoms with everyone who’s ever died. Nice to think I’ll be part of Emily Dickinson, May Swenson, Elizabeth Bishop, Louise Bogan, etc.:

    Do not stand at my grave and weep.
    I am not there, I do not sleep.

    I am in a thousand winds that blow.
    I am the softly falling snow.
    I am the gentle showers of rain,
    I am the fields of ripening grain.

    I am in the morning hush,
    I am in the graceful rush
    Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
    I am the starshine of the night.

    I am in the flowers that bloom,
    I am in a quiet room.
    I am the birds that sing,
    I am in each lovely thing.

    Do not stand at my grave and cry,
    I am not there. I do not die.”

    Mary Frye

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