Native North American prayer

Do not stand at my bier and weep. 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 sun 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 stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my bier and cry; I am not there, I cannot die.