ALICE LARSEN KURLAND
1928 - 2002
A Peom for Mom
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am diamond glints on snow.
I am sunlight on ripened grain.
I am gentle autumnal rain.
When you waken in the morning hush,
I am the soft uplifting rush
Of quiet birds circled in 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.