Hello all I am posting this for Windchaser a fellow board member, 17 years ago today she lost her son to death. She is need of a little support and warmth.
((((((((((((( Windchaser ))))))))))))))
Know you are always with me in my thoughts. Come on lets dream and walk on the wind with me.
Love and Hugs,
For you Windchaser the following poem has always helped me during times of loss.
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.
A vane turns as young leaves begin to rustle,
a limb gently bends..
I remember back to when I was ten
sitting with my grandpa on the front porch swing
"Another traveler just past by," he says.
Then gently, he draws on his blackened hickory pipe
and leans back with a bit of a smile.
"Travelers?" I ask.
"I see nothing but fields and blue skies.
Grandpa, what do you mean?"
He tells me to shut my eyes
and only listen as he softly begins,
"Some men see only with their eyes and others,
with their hearts.
But I was only ten when my grandfather taught me to see within my
So shut your eyes and open your mind now."
Feel the wind, how it blows;
do you ever wonder from where it comes,
or to where it goes.
Who starts the wind, and why?
Some are just a gentle breeze,
others uproot mighty trees.
It lifts the birds into the sky
then, it stops as if to die.
See the wind against the sky...
another traveler just past by.
So, now I see though within my eyes.
The wind, it blows with each passing of a soul.
On angels' wings I see the breeze and, I feel the air
of a travelers' hand gently through my hair.
"Oh Grandpa, I see, I really do!"
The wind, it lives.
It lifts the birds and moves great trees.
And it even stops
then, it kisses me and whispers in my ear...
"Remember me when you feel a breeze,
a vane that turns, the rustling leaves.
I'm with you still, I always will."
...another travelers just past by.