grief

Do not stand by my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep,
I am the thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle Autumn's rain,
When you awaken in the morning's hush                                 Remarkably Human, isn’t it?
I am the swift uplifting rush                                                             By Nelly Khaselev