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 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 by my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
Submitted by Ed and Marsha Simon
in memory of their son, Matthew