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 sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift upliting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines tonight.

Do not stand at my grave and cry-
I am not there.
I did not die.

- A panel on the Phili AIDS quilt