A Tribute in Honor of:
Brad Sibley
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 diamondÂ’s gift of snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the autumnÂ’s gentle rain
When you awaken in the mornings
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.