Do not stand by 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 sun on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush
I am 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; for I did not die
