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JOHN B. HARRIS February 11, 1980 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. Always in our thoughts and prayers. Your loving family
As published in Winnipeg Free Press on Feb 13, 2010