Do Not Stand at My Grave & Weep: Poetry Friday

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 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.
So do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

~ Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004)