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 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 in the starshine of 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 do not die.