I Did Not Die

A short poem 

I Did Not Die

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 rain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift 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.
- Mary Elizabeth Frye