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Mary Elizabeth Frye.

they read this at her "life-celebration". he'd said she read it somewhere and put it up on the fridge. I never noticed it when I was there, so she must have put it up once she knew she was leaving.

Today i found out who wrote this poem. The time that he read it the true author of the poem was being disputed. She was a one time poet. A housewife and florist. I smiled when i saw they shared the same name.

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 sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled 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.

Mary Elizabeth Frye.