“Do not stand on 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 the snow.
I am the sunlight rippened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake 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 on my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.”
— Do Not Stand On My Grave And Weep, Mary
Elizabeth Frye
