This story is slightly OoC for Gibbs but then grief does funny things to people. Sorry if you've read this story in one of its other guises. Funnily enough it's a post Twilight story and ok I've not seen it just yet but I shall soon.

The poem belongs to Mary Frye (I love this poem)

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Gibbs couldn't believe this. He never in a million years thought this day would come, He'd prayed night and day that this day would never come and yet it had, his worst nightmare laid bare for all to see, his pain and his sorrow so impossible to hide any longer that it was on show for every one around him to see, to talk about, and there was nothing he could to stop it now.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

For him the winds would never blow the same, the snow would never have the same appearance when the sun shone it, it had lost that look of diamonds sparkling within, nothing would ever be the same again and he hated himself for it! It should have been him, it could have been him, he could have put a stop to it, the pain was so intense and he'd been powerless to stop it. Guilt was not one of the better known Gibbs qualities but when it struck, there was nothing anyone could do or say to put the mind at rest and only the welcoming arms of oblivion would easy the burdens of his mind.

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

Nothing could bring her back, and he knew he would have to make the best of what was left until such a time that they would be reunited and he could begin to make amends for everything that he hadn't done for her. At the time they had believed it the right thing to do, but that had only left him feeling guilty and bitter at what had occurred between them in those last few days, and once they were together again he vowed to make up for every single little thing that had ever happened during their relationship. He knew that until such a time came, that she would be with him, on the wind, in the rain, in his dreams and that she would truly be gone as long as she remained in his thoughts and memories. That alone would keep her with him right up to the moment he took his last breath and moved on to join her in a much happier place, a place where there was no pain and suffering, no guilt or evil, and were only the most pure form of love could survive. That was where he would see her again and make up for everything he'd done before she'd gone.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

In the mean time he had to content himself with his memories, try and push the guilt to one side and carry on the important work that brought her to him in the first place. In the back of his mind he knew it was the only reason he was still here, the only thing that had prevented him from following her to the other side before his time was due in some form of revenge gone bad. But still he looked forward every morning and every evening, knowing that he was one day closer to being with her again, as soon as this task is through my love, as soon as this task is through.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

She is the thousand winds that blow; she is the diamond glints on snow, she is the sun on ripened grain, and the gentle autumn rain. When he awakens in the morning's hush she is the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight, and she is the soft star that shines at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.