“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 sunlight 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.”
Mary Elizabeth Frye

Death seems to show up in my paintings, in this particular one I spot a small excavation in the middle, in which you clearly see some remains. I’ve always loved this poem and felt it was fitting for this scene. We all encounter death and for those that are sad because they’re missing a loved one this might be soothing.

“All that remains”