Non Religious Funeral Poems...
Whatever is the purpose for composing a funeral poem, it does not change the fact that these pieces of art were written due to the sadness of the person, over losing a loved one. This page is a sanctuary for different collection of funeral poems created by people, as they were inspired by grief....
His Journey’s Just Begun
by Ellen Brenneman
Don’t think of him as gone away –
His journey’s just begun
Life holds so many facets
This earth is only one.
Just think of him as resting
From the sorrows and the tears
In a place of warmth and comfort
Where there are no days and years.
Think how he must be wishing
That we could know today
How nothing but our sadness
Can really pass away.
And think of him as living
In the hearts of those he touched...
For nothing loved is ever lost –
And he was loved so much.
Poem of Life
Life is but a stopping place,
A pause in what's to be,
A resting place along the road,
to sweet eternity.
We all have different journeys
Different paths along the way,
We all were meant to learn some things,
but never meant to stay...
Our destination is a place,
Far greater than we know.
For some the journeys quicker,
For some the journeys slow.
And when the journey finally ends,
We'll claim a great reward,
And find an everlasting peace,
Together with the lord
Anon
Asleep.
As far from pity as complaint,
As cool to speech as stone,
As numb to revelation
As if my trade were bone.
As far from time as history,
As near yourself to-day
As children to the rainbow's scarf,
Or sunset's yellow play
To eyelids in the sepulchre.
How still the dancer lies
While color's revelations break,
And blaze the butterflies!
Emily Dickinson,
(1830 – 1886)
Because I could not stop Death
Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
Emily Dickinson,
(1830 – 1886)
You Can Shed Tears
You can shed tears that he is gone,
or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that he'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he's left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see him,
or you can be full of the love you have shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him and only that he's gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back,
or you can do what he'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
Anon
Gone from my Sight
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then some one at my side says: 'There, she is gone!'
'Gone where?' Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her
.
And just at the moment when some one at my side says: 'There, she is gone!' there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
'Here she comes!' - And that is dying.
Bishop Brent 1862-1929 Bishop of the Philippines
Do not stand at my grave and weep...
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's glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn 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.
Anon
What Is It To Die
By Kahil Gibran
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing,
but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you reach the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
Good Timber
The man who never had to toil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.
Good timber does not grow in ease;
The stronger the wind, the tougher the trees;
The farther the sky, the greater the length;
The more the storm, the more the strength;
By sun and cold, by rain and snows,
In tree and man, good timber grows.
If You Should Forget Me For A While,
By Christina Rossetti
If you should forget me for a while,
And afterwards remember, do not grieve,
For if the darkness and the shadows
Leave a vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far that you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
A Fisherman’s Prayer.
I pray that I may live to fish.......
Until my dying day.
And when it comes to my last cast,
I then most humbly pray:
When in the Lord's great landing net
And peacefully asleep
That in His mercy I be judged
Big enough to keep.
The Garden at Dusk
In the cool of a garden when evening draws in
Serenity waits where the shadows begin.
In the fragrance of dusk and the murmur of clover
The cares that we carry pass peacefully over.
Flowers in their fullness shed blessing about
And the turmoil of living fades quietly out.
Hope glimmers through with the evening star
And anxieties shrink to the size that they are.
Afterglow
by Carol Mukel
I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one.
I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done.
I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways.
Of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days.
I’d like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun.
Of happy memories that I leave when life is done
The Train of Life
Some folks ride the train of life
looking out the rear,
Watching miles oflife roll by,
And marking every year.
They sit in sad remembrance,
of wasted days gone by,
and curse their life for what it was,
and hang their head and cry.
But I don't concern myself with that,
I took a different vent,
I look forward to what life holds,
And not what has been spent.
So strap me to the engine,
as securely as I can be,
I want to be out on the front,
to see what I can see.
I want to feel the winds of change,
Blowing in my face,
I want to see what life unfolds,
As I move from place to place.
I want to see what's coming up,
not looking at the past,
Life's too short for yesterdays,
it moves along too fast.
So if the ride gets bumpy,
while you are looking back,
go up front, and you may find,
your life has jumped the track.
The enjoyment of living,
Is not where we have been,
it’s always looking forward,
to what is done and seen.
It's searching all the byways,
with pleasure and with pain,
for if you want to live your life,
you gotta drive the train!
Our Father Kept A Garden
Unknown
Our Father kept a garden.
A garden of the heart;
He planted all the good things,
That gave our lives their start.
He turned us to the sunshine,
And encouraged us to dream:
Fostering and nurturing
The seeds of self-esteem.
And when the winds and rain came,
He protected us enough;
But not too much because he knew
We would stand up strong and tough.
His constant good example,
Always taught us right from wrong;
Markers for our pathway that will last
a lifetime long.
We are our Fathers garden,
We are his legacy.
Thank you Dad we love you.
In our hearts you'll always be
My Mother Kept A Garden
Unknown
My Mother kept a garden.
A garden of the heart;
She planted all the good things,
That gave my life it's start.
She turned me to the sunshine,
And encouraged me to dream:
Fostering and nurturing
The seeds of self-esteem.
And when the winds and rains came,
She protected me enough;
But not too much, she knew I'd need
To stand up strong and tough.
Her constant good example,
Always taught me right from wrong;
Markers for my pathway
To last my whole life long.
I am my Mother's garden,
I am her legacy.
And I hope today she feels the love,
Reflected back from me.
I Heard Your Voice In The Wind Today
Unknown
I heard your voice in the wind today
and I turned to see your face;
The warmth of the wind caressed me
as I stood silently in place.
I
felt your touch in the sun today
as its warmth filled the sky;
I closed my eyes for your embrace
and my spirit soared high.
I
saw your eyes in the window pane
as I watched the falling rain;
It seemed as each raindrop fell
it quietly said your name.
I
held you close in my heart today
it made me feel complete;
You may have died...but you are not gone
you will always be a part of me.
As
long as the sun shines...
the wind blows...
the rain falls...
You will live on inside of me forever
for that is all my heart knows.
Remember Only My Best
When I
come to the end of my journey
And I travel my last weary mile,
Just forget
if you can any frowns –
And remember only my smile.
Forget
any dark words spoken,
But remember the good I have done.
Forget that
there ever was heartache,
Just remember the laughter and
fun.
Forget
that I stumbled and blundered
And sometimes fell by the way;
Remember – I
fought some hard battles,
And won some, by close of the
day.
So do
not grieve for my going,
And don’t be sad for a day,
But in Summer just
gather some flowers
And come to the place where I lay,
And
then in the shade of the evening,
When the sun paints the sky in the
west;
Stand for a moment beside me –
And remember only my
best.
Anon
