May 16, 2005

Native american poem

So beautiful

An Indian Prayer

"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 glints on snow,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled light
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand on my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.


POETRY

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