Memorial Day

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 wake 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.