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 in the snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the autumn’s gentle rain.
When you awaken in the morning 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.

Author unknown



Jim