Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gently 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.