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 a diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am 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
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Po3m
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