The Old Indian's 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 a diamond glint on snows I am the sunlight on the ripened grain I am the gentle autumn rain When you wake in the morning - Hush I am the swift uplifting rush I am quiet birds in circling flight I am the fish swimming in the lake By the soft starlight at night Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there, I do not sleep