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| 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 fallen snow. I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain. I am in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush. Of quiet birds in circled flight, I am the soft star that shines at night. I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room. I am in 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! We do not die So please don't cry We will meet again as promised In the love of the white Dove! |
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| IF WE NEVER MEET AGAIN |
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