Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there… I do not sleep. I am the 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 waken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush Of gentle birds in circling flight… I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry— I am not there… I did not die…
