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
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.
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