Many years ago, I heard a poem. I didn’t know who it was by, I couldn’t remember the words.

I just loved it when I heard it and I couldn’t forget it.

I occasionally looked for it.

And then, doing some scouting for cemetaries to visit, I ran across Wapley, Gloucestershire.

Imagine my surprise when I saw this:

It is almost the full wording of the poem I heard, on a gravestone at the churchyard there.

The words are by Mary Elizabeth Frye.

This is the full version:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die.

I think you’ll agree, it’s beautiful and incredibly moving.

And Rachel, if you happen to read this — I thought of you when I posted the poem.
I’m sure your Granddad would tell you exactly what this poem does.
It reminds us that no matter who we lose, as long as we are alive and keep them in our heart, they are with us, in every little thing we do, see, feel, experience.

Tags: Mary Elizabeth Frye, Poem