Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there I did 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 awaken in the mornings hush, I am the swift uplifting rush.

Of quiet birds in circled flight,

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there, I did not die."

~Mary Elizabeth Frye