ZenGiraffe memorial Wednesday

I'd look but I've somehow ended up at a driving range.

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And my cocktail hasn't even arrived yet :angry:
 
Do not stand at Zen's grave and weep,

He is not there; he does not sleep.

He is a thousand winds that blow,

He is the diamond glints on snow,

He is the sun on ripened grain,

He is the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

He is the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

He is the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at Zen's grave and cry,

He is not there; he did not die.
 

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