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\\u201cDo 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\\u2019s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft starts that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.\\u201d

-Mary Elizabeth Frye