I admire This Poem and I believe It, you may enjoy it too
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 the 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
by Mary Elizabeth Frye