A Poem for the Grieving

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 the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die…

-Anonymous