Antonetta Missico

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's gift of snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain;

I am the autumn's gentle rain

When you awaken in the morning hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight

I am the soft star that shines at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there, I did not die.