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's rain.
When you awaken in the mornings's hush: 
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circled fllight. 
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.