Posted in Poem

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, –and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of –Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air…
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

by John Gillespie Magee, Jr

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Posted in grief, Poem

Time

Time is too slow for those who wait,
too swift for those who fear,
too long for those who grieve,
too short for those who rejoice,
but for those who love,
time is eternity.

by Henry Van Dyke

Posted in death, grief

The cost of pain

Nothing can make up for the absence
of someone whom we love,
and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute;
we must simply hold out and see it through.
That sounds very hard at first,
but at the same time it is a great consolation,
 for the gap, as long as it remains unfilled,
preserves the bonds between us.
It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap;
God doesn’t fill it, but on the contrary, he keeps it empty
and so helps us to keep alive our former communion
with each other,
even at the cost of pain.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Posted in Humour

Will we have a test on it?

Then Jesus took his disciples up the mountain,
and gathering them around him he taught them saying:
Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are they that mourn.
Blessed are the merciful.
Blessed are they who thirst for justice.
Blessed are all the concerned.
Blessed are you when persecuted.
Blessed are you when you suffer.
Be glad and rejoice for your reward is great in heaven
try to remember what I am telling you
 
Then Simon Peter said,
     Will this count?
and Andrew said,
     Will we have a test on it?
and James said,
    When do we have to know it for?
and Phillip said,
     How many words?
and Bartholomew said,
     Will I have to stand up in front of the others?
and John said,
     The other disciples didn’t have to learn this.
and Matthew said,
     How many marks do we get for it?
And Judas said,
     What is it worth?
and the other disciples likewise.
 
Then one of the Pharisees who was present
asked to see Jesus’ lesson plan
and inquired of Jesus
his terminal objectives in the cognitive domain
 
and Jesus wept.
 
Don Linehan
Posted in death, Funeral Poem

Miss me, but let me go

When I come to the end of the road,
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little – but not for long.
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that once we shared.
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we must all take,
And each must go alone.
It’s all part of the master plan,
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart,
Go to the friends we know,
Laugh at all the things we used to do.
Miss me, but let me go.
 

Anonymous

Posted in death, Funeral Poem

Don’t cry for me

Don’t cry for me now I have died, for I’m still here I’m by your side,
My body’s gone but my soul’s is here, please don’t shed another tear,
I am still here I’m all around, only my body lies in the ground.
I am the snowflake that kisses your nose,
I am the frost, that nips your toes.
I am the sun ,bringing you light,
I am the star, shining so bright.
I am the rain, refreshing the earth,
I am the laughter, I am the mirth.
I am the bird, up in the sky,
I am the cloud, that’s drifting by.
I am the thoughts, inside your head,
While I’m still there, I can’t be dead.

Author unknown.

Posted in death, Funeral Poem

A Funeral Poem

Not, how did he die, but how did he live?

Not, how did he die, but how did he live?
Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of his birth.
Nor what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with words of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away?
 
Anonymous
Posted in Humour

A Mother’s Prayers

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my mind.
  
I pray I find a little quiet
Far from the daily family riot
May I lie back–not have to think
about what they’re stuffing down the sink,
or who they’re with, or where they’re at
and what they’re doing to the cat.
   
I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(Oh no, another goldfish–dead!)
 
Some silent moments for goodness sake
(Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean…
(Well heck, I’ve got the right to dream)
   
Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep,
But as I look around I know…
I must have lost them long ago!
   
Anon
Posted in Life, Love, Poem

Love by Roy Croft

I used this poem in a sermon and found it on this blog, it can also be found on many others and is used at weddings. 

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;

I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.

Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.