Olga Jaime

~~~~~~~

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 glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awake in the morning’s hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die