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Indian Prayer

    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 glint on snow.
    I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
    I am the gentle autumn rain.
    When you wake in morning hush,
    I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circling flight.
    I am the soft starlight at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and cry,
    I am not there.
    I did not die.