I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle rain. Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die. A very dear friend gave me this years ago. I have it in a little picture frame, with a very small feather, Inside a beautiful 3x5 golden frame, that sparkles and glitters. I'm unpacking boxes from attic and finding beautiful memories. *RIP!
