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 the snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,I am the gentle 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.
“Do not stand at my grave and weep”
Mary Elizabeth Frye , Circa 1932