Greg June 12th, 2016

When I heard of Donna's passing, this poem came to mind immediately. Many years ago I began to believe that Donna did not age and figured she would live "forever". Even now, I believe in my heart that she is not gone, she's just not "here". 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 sun 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. Love, Pat & Greg