Stephen (Steve) Bohanan (1966)

                                          Do not stand at her grave and weep,

she is not there, she does not sleep. 

She is a thousand winds that blow; 

she is the diamond glints on the snow. 

She is the sunlight that ripened grain; 

she is the gentle autumns’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush, 

she is the swift uplifting rush,

of quiet birds in circled flight. 

She is the soft star that shines at night.

Do not stand at her grave and cry. 

She is not there; she did not die.   

(Irish funeral prayer)