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Upon A Lifting Breeze
Posted: 26 November 2005
Word Count: 162
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I will soar
Upon a lifting breeze
In sunset’s fading light
I shall find my ease
Do not weep for me
Nor regret my passing day
My love lives on in you
You now will find my way
My spirit lives
Within the gentle rain
That slakes the thirsty earth
Softening all pain
I am mind I am thought
Free yes free at last
Love is all and all is love
Never gone never lost never past
You are the very best of me
My undeserving victory
Over doubt and fear
A love valedictory
Your hearts are my resting place
Not windstrewn ash
Or unforgiving stone
You are my saving grace
So hold me close my dears
In precious memory
Of laughter silliness and joy
A love filled history
I fly now with eagles
Defying gravity
Carried on the loving wind
Ever present ever free
My farewell like the sun
A momentary pause
Before the light returns
And the lone eagle soars
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Comments by other Members
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 Tina at 07:22 on 27 November 2005
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Hi
If I was the deserver of this writing I would be proud - reminds me of ...
'I am the seven winds that blow
I am the softly falling snow' ....
do you know this poem?
- very lovely like yours
thanks
Tina
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.JPG) Zettel at 12:11 on 27 November 2005
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Tina
Thanks so much. Do you know who wrote the poem you mention or who wrote it? I'd like to look it up.
Regards
Zettel
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 joanie at 12:45 on 27 November 2005
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Hi Zettel. Yes, I know what Tina means. It is a poem by Mary Frye and is often read at funeral services.
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. |
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I agree with Tina that yours is lovely, too.
joanie
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Zettel at 16:51 on 27 November 2005
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Joannie
Thanks. I thought the two lines were familiar. I have a hunch that it is derived from a Native American prayer. I'll try to check it out.
Thanks for the comment.
regards
Zettel
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 Brian Aird at 08:07 on 28 November 2005
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I like this poem. The attempted half rhyme is enough to make it flow without forcing tha pace.
I recognised the 'feel' of Indian philosphy in your piece and it says [some of] what I might want to say - to those whom I leave behind. (Problem is with so few eagles around our towns, with what can a person's spirit be identified?)
Its seems to me so much easier to remember a loved one in ordinary things and in ourselves than in a forced ritual, but I respect that many will prefer the latter. I'm sure that both have their place.
Brian
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Zettel at 11:52 on 28 November 2005
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Brian
I guess this is for my kids - hopefully not for a little while yet. The eagle is an image of course and need not be literal, its special quality in this instance being its solitariness. Association? Almost any soaring bird would do perhaps to spark a memory.
Anyway thanks for reading and commenting.
regards
Z
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Tina at 17:30 on 28 November 2005
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Hi all
'Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep' was left in an envelope for his parents by Steven Cummins, a soldier killed on active service in Northern Ireland to be opened in the event of his death. This was then sent in anonymously to the competition for the nations favourite poems - later to become the book of the same name. Needless to say it provoked an extraordinary response. Itwas thought at first that the soldier himself had written it but this was not the case. Claims were made for nineteenth century magazines and Navaho Indian priests but in the end its origins remain a mystery.
You can find it in the foreword to the book 'The Nations Favourite Poems' - given, as they state - poll position. In there it goes:
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 softly falling snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle falling 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 nto die
thanks
T
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The Walrus at 19:02 on 29 November 2005
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Both noble and moving - love, freedom and acceptance.
Quite beautiful.
Christina
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Zettel at 13:55 on 30 November 2005
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Christina and Alice
Thanks so much. It's the very personal ones you hope people like.
(Alice: haven't seen you for a while - welcome back - if you've been away).
regards
Zettel
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