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 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.
Whatever you are doing today to remember
Peter Steele Ratajczyk,
whether it's a meeting at Prospect Park
in front of a tree planted in his honor
celebrating mass at Visitation Church in Red Hook
playing music really loud in your car in Germany
sending good thoughts into the universe in California
Our Family Thanks You For Loving
For Who He Was:
Monster in the Basement
Partner in Crime
Missing You For 2 Years Now
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