wind

When I read through past emails, as I have just done, it really feels as if she's still alive. Only to be awakened to the truth. How many more times must I perform the act of committing mental suicide.

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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.
--Frye (???)

I decided to post this famous poem because I find that I do indeed feel her in the wind from time to time.
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The other day I visited her flat and saw this stone plaque nearby. It read:

この世に生きているものは、なんらかの意味において、
太陽に向かって、手を伸ばしていないものは、ないと思います。
--山本有三

It reads along the lines of "I do not believe that there is any living thing in this world that in one sense or another is not facing and reaching for the sun".

True.