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 wake in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift upflinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starshine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry …
I am not there. I did not die.