Reflection: The Dead

They do not leave us; they are not gone.

They look upon us still.

They walk among the valleys now,

They stride upon the hill.

Their smile is in the summer sky

Their grace is in the breeze.

Their memories whisper in the grass

Their calm is in the trees.

Their light is in the winter snow

Their tears are in the rain.

Their merriment runs in the brook

Their laughter in the lane

Their gentleness is in the flowers

They sigh in autumn leaves.

They do not leave; they are not gone,

Tis only we who grieve