This is a poem I found in my stress management textbook (of all places) and it reminded me of my character, Ivan. he dies. It's a sad sweet violent death because the female protagonist loves him.
Do not stand there 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 gentile 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 cry
I am not there. I did not die.
~Joyce Fessen
(For Ivan)
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