Memories of Dad today,
a.k.a Santa,
on what would have
been his 82nd birthday.
"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die." —thomas campbell
A Native American Prayer
I give you this one thought to keep—I am with you still—I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awake 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 think of me as gone—I am with you still—in each new dawn.
Author unknown
No comments:
Post a Comment
What makes a blog worth reading? Comments from people like you. Share your thoughts here.