Do not stand at my grave
And weep.
I am not there.
I do 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 morning’s 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.