Skydiving Poem

I re-wrote Mary Frye's poem (see below) in June of 1996 after learning of the death of Ron Green and Melanie Colby who left us while making a Tandem Skydive together. I offer it for publication and use where ever someone might feel it is appropriate.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the essence of clear blue sky;

I am the yearning to climb very high.

I am the breeze you feel as you spot;

I am the rapture of building a blot.

I am the rustle of a canopy in flight;

I am the flicker of camp fire light.

When you pass through the door into open air,

I know you are smiling, I'm the wind in your hair.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there; I did not die.

- Allen Roulston (June 1996)

You can reach me by e-mail at: maxtrack@rogers.com

(Do not stand at my grave and weep).

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 glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!

Mary Frye (1932-2004)