DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE
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 the ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the soft 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.
Mary Elizabeth Fry 1932
And don't be too surprised if you catch me out of the corner of your eye. I'll be the one smiling like the Cheshire Cat.