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's 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 star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I did not die.