Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

do not stand at my grave and weep

I'm not there

I do not sleep

I'm a thousand winds that blow

I'm the diamond glints on snow

I'm the sunlight on ripened grain

I'm the gentle autumn rain

when you awaken

in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circling 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

----

for those we miss