A Prayer
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 sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's rush,
I am the swift uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.