Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. Thomas Merton

Monday, August 5, 2013

For My Nephew

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 starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Michael Evans Pace
December 28, 1966 - July 30, 2013

We will love you and miss you always