Easter Sunday

We drove around and went to our Sunday spot Lyons la Forêt and we took a stroll in the cemetry, somewhere we never go before in all the times we have gone there! It is unusual in the fact that it is right next to the church which is not common. There I saw this grave and "it" called me. Something about the statue of Christ on it and the fabulous contrast between the whitness of it against the dark cross erected there.

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 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.
Mary Elizabeth Frye