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.