Do not stand at my grave and weep
I'm not there
I do not sleep
I'm a thousand winds that blow
I'm the diamond glints on snow
The sunlight on ripened grain
The gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I'm the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight
I'm the soft stars shining at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I'm not there, I did not die.