Do not stand at my grave and weep
For I’m not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am diamond glints of snow;
I am sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn’s rain;
When you awaken in the morning’s hush;
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds encircled 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.