Your mother is always with you..
She's the whisper of the leaves as 
you walk down the street.
She's the smell of bleach in your 
freshly laundered socks.
She's the cool hand on your brow 
when you're not well.

Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She's crystallized in every tear drop.
She's the place you came from, 
your first home...
She's the map you follow with 
every step that you take.

She's your first love and your 
first heart break...
and nothing on earth can 
separate you.
Not time,  Not space...
Not even death... 
will ever separate you from 
your mother...
You carry her inside of you..







 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 autumns rain.
 When you awake in the mornings 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."    






 . . . . . . Music By . . . . . .