A rose once grew where all could see,
Sheltered beside a garden wall,
And, as the days passed swiftly by,
It spread its branches, straight and tall....
One day, a beam of light shone through
A crevice that had opened wide -
The rose bent gently towards its warmth
Then passed beyond to the other side...
Now, you who deeply feel its loss,
Be comforted - the rose blooms there -
Its beauty even greater now,
Nurturned by God's own loving care.
Author unknown
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 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.
Author Unknown