WORDS OF COMFORT
If we must part, then let it be like this,
not hand on heart, nor with the useless anguish of a kiss,
but touch my hand and say:
until tomorrow or some other day, if we must part.
 

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 in the snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the autumn rain

When you awake in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight, I am soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die

 
I believe that you still exist - somewhere
I believe you still watch me - sometime
I believe you still love me - somehow
The dash
 
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