Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep,I am the thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow;
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am gentle Autumnal rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the soft uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight;
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.
Dee
20th February 2017