Thierry Jean

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 ripened grain:

I am the gentle autumn's 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 star that shines at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there.

I did not die.