Poems & Readings
Death Is Nothing At All
by Canon Henry Scott-Holland
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
When We Lose a Loved One
by Unknown
When we lose a loved one
Our world just falls apart
We think that we cant carry on
With this broken heart
Everything is different now
You’re upset and you’re annoyed
Your world it seems is shattered
There’s such an awful void
There’s got to be a reason
And we have to understand
God made us and at any time
Hell reach down for our hand
There might not be a warning
We won’t know where or when
The only thing were certain of
Is we’ll meet them once again.
Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep
by Mary Frye
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 on snow.
I am the sunlight 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 grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.
A Reflection on an Autumn Day
by Unknown
I took up a handful of grain and let it slip flowing through my fingers,
and I said to myself, This is what it is all about.
There is no longer any room for pretense.
At harvest time the essence is revealed – the straw and chaff are set aside,
they have done their job.
The grain alone matters – sacks of pure gold.
So it is when a person dies the essence of that person is revealed.
At the moment of death a person’s character stands out happy
When I Am Dead, My Dearest
by Christina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget..
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain;
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember
And haply may forget.