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 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. 
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