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 glint on snow, I am the sun 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.