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. |