Outside: 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 in the snow... I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain... When you awaken 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 cry. I am not there, I did not die. -Jane Ormes

Inside: With Deep Sympathy