I nearly missed
The leaves this year
Thier colors falling
Thier cycles calling
For me
To pay attention
To my apprehension
Of seasons
The bittersweet
That comes
With the frost
When all seems lost
The suffering cost
Reveals to me
The sacred reminder
Of this valiant fighter
Who walks amongst
The light
“Do not forsake
Even when
you break
Wide Open and
Frozen in awe
You withdraw”
I shake my head
For I am aware
Of this thred weaving
The deep believing
Of lesson once learned
Until feeling the burn
Of inattention
Then intervention
Felt painfully raw
In the winter withdraw
Now clearly i see
You will forever be
Blinded by darkness
Not worth the fight
For defeat is unknown
To a warrior of the light



~Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep~


“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 bereft
I am not there. I have not left.”

~Mary Elizabeth Frye

Grave in Robertsville Missouri May 2014.