NATIVE AMERICAN 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 the diamond glint on the snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn's rain

When you wake in the morning 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 weep,

I am not there. I do not sleep.