I am the gentle autumn rain.

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep-Mary Elizabeth Frye
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.

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