I am in 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 the starshine of the night.

I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.

I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

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