racing to the red light

I came across this poem yesterday. It is lovely and sad.

I like that it is spiritual without being religious or preachy.

It was written in 1932 by an American woman who was not a poet at all. According to Wikipedia, Mary Elizabeth Frye wrote the following poem to console a young German immigrant of Jewish heritage, who was staying with her and her husband in Baltimore.

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 sun 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 circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.