Poems & Readings

Responses for a Cremation

Responses for a Cremation

by Ruth Burgess

Into the freedom of wind and sunshine
We let you go
Into the dance of the stars and the planets
We let you go
Into the wind’s breath and the hands of the star maker
We let you go
We love you, we miss you, we want you to be happy
Go safely, go dancing, go running home

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

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 ship sails and I stand watching

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

by Bishop Brent

A ship sails and I stand watching till she fades on the horizon
and someone at my side says She is gone
Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all.
She is just as large now as when I last saw her.
Her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says she is gone
There are others who are watching her coming over their horizon
And other voices take up a glad shout There she comes!
That is what dying is.
An horizon and just the limit of our sight.
Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further

Tis Only We Who Grieve

Tis Only We Who Grieve

by Unknown

Tis only we who grieve
They do not leave
They are not gone
They look upon us still
They walk among the valleys now
They stride upon the hill
Their smile is in the summer sky
Their grace is in the breeze
Their memories whisper in the grass
Their calm is in the trees
Their light is in the winter snow
Their tears are in the rain
Their merriment runs in the brook
Their laughter in the lane
Their gentleness is in the flowers
They sigh in autumn leaves
They do not leave
They are not gone
Tis only we who grieve
If only we could see the splendour of the land
To which our loved ones are called from you and me
We’d understand
If only we could hear the welcome they receive
From old familiar voices all so dear
We would not grieve
If only we could know the reason why they went
We’d smile and wipe away the tears that flow
And wait content.

My Candle Burns At Both Ends

My Candle Burns At Both Ends

by Edna St.Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends;
It gives a lovely light!