I Am a Bower Quiet

I look behind my grave and weep
and find that I am not there.
For a thing of beauty increases health and quiet breathing.  It will never
pass into nothingness but still will keep its
loveliness full of sweet dreams, a thousand winds that blow.
There is a soul of light in my deepest sorrows.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
And all is right, quiet birds in circled flight.

I cry and awaken the morning’s hush, when you sleep at my grave: the stars stand there at night and do not sleep!
I rush on the gentle sunlight uplifting a swift autumn rain, and after I shine in the ripened grain.

That soft – joy is not for us
is not for ever…
I am… I am not… I am…
I stand… I do not…
I die… I do not…
I did.

Paola Tavoletti, 2016

Remixed works:
Soul Of Light, by Swami Vivekananda
A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever, by John Keats
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, by Mary Elizabeth Frye