rudenski
Do not stand by my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am a diamond glint of snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flights.
I am the soft star shine at night.
Do not stand by my grave and cry.
I am not there . . . I did not die.
--Author Unknown