Monday 18 January 2021

Immortality - Mary Elizabeth Frye

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. "

Fishing Boats on the Beach at Saintes-Maries-De-La-Mer (On Van Gogh's painting) 
- Jude Goodwin

One of these boats carried Mary,     put to sea by the Romans,     the crying woman, hands wrapped with rags     that smell of myrrh. And...