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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 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 stars that shines at night,  Do not stand at my grave and cry,  I am not there; I did not die.    - Mary Elizabeth Frye

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 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 stars that shines at night, Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die. - Mary Elizabeth Frye

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