Poem

Do not stand at my grave & weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the snow on the mountain's rim
I am the laughter in children's eyes
I am the sand at the water's edge
I am the sunlight on ripen grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush of
quite birds in circled flight
I am the star that shines at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die

by unknown