Page 90 - Kol Bogrei Habonim - Autumn 21

In Memoriam

Please note that obituaries are posted in our quarterly Newsletter

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep, When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am not there; I do not sleep. I am the swift uplifting rush

I am a thousand winds that blow, Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the soft star-shine at night.

I am the sun on ripened grain, Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am the gentle autumn rain. I am not there; I did not die.

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