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.

For Stephen

When a branch breaks
From a tree in the woods
It does make a sound
“Forget-me-not” is asks, coming to rest
on angel leaves.

Forgetting is not an option
Though all our tress be up rooted
And our clouds rumble
in the tumult of grief and questions.

Memory like sap courses through
the limbs of our conscience
and it is life.
Messages are delivered in songs,
familiar smells, dreams of laughter
and they are life.

And when these messages come we will remember
and we will celebrate the life that
gave us so much that was
wonderful.

He continues to give us much that is wonderful.
Happy Birthday Stephen, and thank you!

Written by Angela Jones-Glukhov
For Stephen’s Birthday
February 13, 2005