Do Not Stand at my Grave

For my lovely Mr S when the time comes.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am primroses in the sun,
I am in waves that run and run,
I am seagulls on the wing,
I am in choruses that sing.
When you awaken in dead of night
I am in stars that bring you light
Of peace and love and life and hope. 
I am the bubbles in your soap.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.

After the poem by 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 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.