do not stand at my grave and weep
i’m not there, i do not sleep
i am a thousand winds that blow
i am the diamond glints of snow
i am the sunlight on ripened grain
i am the gentle autumn rain
when you awake in the morning hush
i am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight
i am the soft starlight at night

do not stand at my grave and cry
i am not there
i did not die

by Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)