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End-of-Life Lessons from an Old Cat
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
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.
(This beautiful poem is probably one of the world’s best known and best loved, but the identity of the author remains unconfirmed. There are several variations in print, but the version that appears here was published in The Gypsy magazine in 1934 with the byline of Clare Harner of Topeka, Kansas. The poem has also been attributed to Mary Elizabeth Clark Frye, a Baltimore housewife; Stephen Cummins, a British soldier; J.T. Wiggins, an Englishman who migrated to America; and Marianne Reinhardt (no information found). It’s also been alleged as a Navajo burial prayer. Sadly, we may never know who gets the credit for these comforting words.)
(https://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=322)