Do not stand at my grave and weep, by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep,I am not there, I do not sleep.I am in a thousand winds that blow,I am the softly falling snow.I am the gentle showers of rain,I am the fields of ripening grain.I am in the morning hush,I am in the graceful rush.Of beautiful birds in circling flight,I am a star shining in the night.I am in the flowers that bloom,I am in a quiet room.I am in the birds that sing,I am in each lovely thing.Do not stand at my grave and cry,I am not there. I did not die!