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.