Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.Not an advertisement, but looks like it
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.