Do not stand by my grave, and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep —
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints in snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand by my grave, and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
"
Immortality
" by Clare Harner, Topeka, KS
published in "
The Gypsy
", December 1934