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 softly fallen snow;
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the field of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the grateful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing.
I am in each lovely thing.
So do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.