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[at-l] OT, Somewhat - or Not - "I am a thousands winds that blow"
My personal favorite is W H Auden. Leave it to the English to really stick
it where it hurts.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
W. H. Auden
----- Original Message -----
From: "Casey Jaymes" <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Sent: Monday, April 18, 2005 9:47 PM
Subject: Re: [at-l] OT, Somewhat - or Not - "I am a thousands winds that
> I liked this poem well enough to look up who wrote it: Mary Frye (1932).
> FYI, y'all,
> On Mon, 2005-04-18 at 12:27 -0400, Jan Leitschuh wrote:
> > I came home after a weekend in Virginia to find an old friend of mine
> > had died, succumbed to the cancer that had plagued him. He'd been on
> > my mind all weekend.
> > This poem was on the back of the prayer card for Douglas.
> > We've all been to this "place;" it's something that unites us.
> > "Do not stand at my grave and weep.
> > I am not there, I do not sleep.
> > I am a thousands winds that blow;
> > I am the diamond glints on snow.
> > I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
> > I am the gentle autumn's rain.
> > When you awake in the morning's hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush
> > of quiet birds of circled flight.
> > I am the soft star that shines at night
> > Do not stand at my grave and cry.
> > I am not there; I did not die"
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