Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there, I do not sleep I am a 1,000 winds that blow I am the diamond glints on snow I am the sun 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 light 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.