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 softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am in the star shine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I do not die.

(Be at peace, Granddaddy, and know that I love and miss you.)