• Please don't think of my grave and weep.
    I am not there, I do not sleep.
    I am the sweet smell of afternoon hay,
    I am the cool crisp ocean spray.
    I am the dust of a comet's tail,
    I am the dirt of the nature trail.
    When you look out by the morning lake,
    I am the flower you will take.
    I am the gentle light of the moon,
    I am the quiet call of the loon.
    It was not a thing of fate I chose,
    yet here I am, the beautiful rose.
    So please don't think of my grave and cry.
    I am not there, I did not die.