Dont Stand At My Grave And Weep Poem

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Dont Stand At My Grave And Weep Poem



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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. This is a version of a poem that, apparently was circulated as postcards printed by the Schwarzkopf family. It is said that Mary wrote this for Margaret and that it was Mary's first real attempt at poetry. Mary has said she wrote it on a brown paper bag and that the words just came to her. Later it was printed on postcards by the Schwarzkopf family and was circulated in that fashion before it was ever conventionally printed.

Subsequent versions of the poems have appeared in so many places that it was firmly regarded as public domain, despite Mary Frye's claims. On her death in , The Times English Newspaper quoted a version of this poem in her autobiography. Mary Frye [] was an American housewife and poet and is chiefly remembered for a single poem. She was born on November 13, She died on September 15, , aged It is said that she never received a penny for her poem 'Do Not Stand at my Grave' which was written in for a young German Jewish girl who had lost her Mother and was advised not to return to Germany due to the rising anti-semitism. This poem has become beloved by people the world over to express their own sorrows. Add to list. Mary Frye Follow.

Like Nicely penned! Amazing Liked it Like JanSand - I do not kid myself about my entity. Perhaps I might compare myself to A momentary breeze With scents of sounds, With sounds of sense, But galaxies or ancient seas Are not, in any way Intents of me that persists For the smallest instant of eternity To, at end, vanish, Even as a memory. Esmer - It's deep thoughts are fascinating..

She was my everything. The 4th night of her funeral I fell asleep next to her coffin, and I had a dream. She held out a message that said, "Son, I'm so sorry for leaving. I'm so sorry for not saying goodbye. I'm so sorry for breaking my promises. I'm so sorry I will not be able to watch you grow up. I want you to finish your studies. I love you, my little boy. I lost my mum suddenly 4 years ago. She was my best friend, and I never got to say goodbye to her.

I was distraught and in shock, but when I came across this poem, which was read at my mum's funeral, it gave me comfort knowing that she was still around me and always would be. I think about her every day, and when her loss overwhelms me, I read this beautiful poem, look out the window and see her everywhere, and this gives me great comfort. I was born once, and I'll die once. What makes the difference between my birthday and my death day are the little things that I did, how I lived my life, how I socialized and lived in the society.

People won't cry because I'll be gone forever, but they will look behind and see the very things you used to do, how you helped the society, how many cases you solved and brought peace. They will miss your peace, they will miss your intelligence, your hardworking nature. Just as they celebrated when you were born, not because you are born! But because they believe something new, something unique, something different has been brought to them. It is how someone lives in the society, that's what people will miss.

I lost my Mum 11 weeks ago. She was only It was always just her and me, and I honestly feel as if half of me is missing. I asked a dear friend to read this poem as my Mum was being buried; it means so much to me. My Mum was a real lover of nature and taught me to respect nature and everything around me. I now have my Mum's garden bench in my garden and sit listening in the early morning and evening to the nature all around me and truly believe my Mum is with me in these wonderful things.

Thank you for reading my story. When my father died suddenly, I commented on Facebook that it felt like some of the light had gone out of the light. The funeral director pulled me aside at the visitation and told me that he was found with a flashlight beside his hand. It was still on. So, even though my Dad was gone, he left a light on for me! I still have that flashlight. Today when I was in an Iranian cemetery for a friend's funeral. Quite accidentally, I came across the poem "Do not stand at my grave and weep She was maybe a mother or a daughter and maybe a wife.

I was impressed and said a prayer and took a picture of her grave stone which was decorated with beautiful flowers. I searched the poem on the internet tonight thinking deeply and wrote and submitted these wordings to remember to all beloved ones who are not between us. Aliasghar Esbati Tehran, Iran. My cousin passed away this past summer. I hadn't seen him in years. I saw this poem just after I got the news, and I couldn't help but cry. Right after I got the news, I was sitting outside reading the poem as a gentle breeze was passing and some birds flew out of a tree nearby. This is the first winter without him, and all the shining snow on the ground just reminds me of him even more. The day before my dad's funeral, I was standing outside and this hawk was glowing in the sky just gliding up and down on the wind.

Then I saw 4 white birds flying in a circle and I thought to myself they look like ghost birds because they were so faint. The next day at my dad's funeral in the card they hand out was this poem and the words "I am the uplifting wind and the circle of birds in flight" were there. I was in tears I hadn't heard it before that day. At the funeral of my mother, I was overcome with grief. While standing at the gravesite, a friend quietly handed me a crumpled piece of paper. She said, "I didn't have time to buy you a card, but maybe these words will help you. I don't know who wrote it, but it helped me!

Today, I am passing it on to a dear friend who had just lost his sister. I lost my mom to the cold hands of death in , just two years after my grandma passed on. I still grieve each time I have so much to discuss with her, like I'd been doing before her tragic demise. I miss her each and every day, yet I don't have a picture of her I could hold on to. Sometimes I'd whisper to the walls in my room, wishing and hoping she were there listening. But now I know she is not dead, she is in everything around me. Thank you so much for this poem I read this poem today. It reminds me of my mom. She died 5 years ago, yet reading this made me feel like she was in the hospital, telling her sister what she wanted at the funeral.

It reminded me of the poem on the back of her funeral card. I lost a friend a while ago and he was like family, but this makes me happy that he is with nature and happy but also makes me sad because I miss him. He was a great person who didn't need to die by the hands of a idiot driver in a truck. My daughter, aged 34, died on December 3, , from a rare viral infection that attacked her heart.

As a family, we would have preferred cremation, but her husband insisted on burial. This poem was apt because of its strong message that we shouldn't stand at a grave and weep as her spirit is in harmony with nature. This message gave me comfort on an otherwise tragic day as it conveyed my beliefs in a very beautiful and poignant way. My Mama and I walked her final journey together. It was just the two of us sharing her hospice bed. We whispered stories and secrets never before told. After Mama was silent, only I continued whispering. After 3 days she opened her eyes wide.

She intently was seeing what I could not. I asked, "What do you see, Mama? Gone to and with our loved one. Although no longer in my present world, she is so very present still journeying by my side each day. Oh my dear, your words are exactly the same as what I have been through with the passing of my mother 9 months ago. I was her caregiver for 4. I am thankful and grateful that I was by her side in the same room that we shared when she passed quietly and peacefully. I thank the Lord for that. Regards from Cape Town. Today I grieve the passing of a year-old sweetest pet I've ever had. The sweetness lingers. The grief brings back the loss of my mom and other loved ones.

I first read this poem on a gravestone of a young child many years ago with my husband as we walked through an old cemetery. We had lost 4 family members in a short period. Words are spiritual. We are spiritual. And these words ring out the truth our spiritual heart knows. Loss in this physical realm is certainly loss, but truth is comfort, and I am grateful to each person who shared their portion of truth in their story. And to the author who penned the truth in this poem. Thank you, Charlene, for sharing your beautiful experience. I believe every word your Mama said. The heart knows truth. We are all connected by it. My dad passed away 6 months ago, just shortly after I turned I found this poem a few weeks after, and whenever I feel grief or anger or just plain sadness, I like to pull up this poem to read.

I never usually have such a connection with poetry. I enjoy reading and analyzing, but I have never felt a true understanding or appreciation of the poem. My gran also passed away just 2 weeks ago, and again I've found myself pulling up this poem. It has greatly helped me deal with all these tough feelings and trying times I've gone through lately. For me, it makes dealing with a lost loved one easier and more comforting. My beloved husband lost his battle to cancer almost two years ago. My husband became suddenly sick and died 6 months later. I received this poem from a dear work friend, and it has taken me almost two years to "accept these comforting words. The grief is lessened with beautiful words as these in this poem.

Our loved one is always there, and this poem tells us that. This was left in my mom's belongings and found when she passed away in I love this poem! I had this read at the gravesite of my daughter, 26, and granddaughter, 5 months. They were victims of a drunk driver and the people were devastated. I wanted this to be the only thing done at the grave-site. It gave me great comfort. It still gives me comfort 21 years later. Dear Karen, I was so very sorry to hear of your loss. May your daughter and granddaughter rest in peace. I lost my baby son 20 years ago and had this read at his grave. I was just about to break down and the words stopped me in a comforting way.

I think of my son that way now, in the winds around me, in the rain and the stars. He's still here with me. It's a beautiful poem. I first discovered this poem when I was searching amongst anonymous poems on the internet. I wanted to include it in a song I wrote, which was a kind of prayer. It was meant to be an answer to the struggle a painter was having understanding or coming to find peace with death. I later discovered this is an extremely popular poem written by Mary Elizabeth Frye. It is a wonder that so much could be said, so much love and compassion could be expressed in just a few words.

When Mr. Lee Kuan Yew- the first prime minister of Singapore my home country - passed away, the principal of my school read this poem during the morning assembly as a farewell to him. It had touched me because I had learned in history classes how he had shaped said country into what it is today. I have always loved this poem. When I die, I want my ashes to be sprinkled over the ocean and the rainforest in my country. Hence, I can truly relate to this poem.

I found this lovely poem on a gravestone while jogging through a Seattle cemetery near my son's house. It was in a cluster of graves of younger folk from the mid's, which had to be part of the City's AIDS fallen. Hindu culture believes in reincarnation to life's many forms, and this offering expresses that belief in a more universally relevant form. I cannot read it with dry eyes. I read the poem at my brother's 20th anniversary in Always liking poetry. I read this to my Father at the breakfast table shortly after a.

My father passed away around that Tuesday morning. This poem has comforted me so many times over the years. This poem is a classic because it provides a link to a loved one who has died. For me, the sudden loss of my mom was unbearable. It's difficult to be forced to give up someone you are very close to. And also who has been taken away suddenly. So I kept searching for something that would help me to stay connected to my Mom.

This poem was it. What makes the poem a "classic" is that it has a life of its own that is more powerful than time or space or distance. My mom died in May , when I was 18 years old. Her death devastated me.

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