A2ZBIZ - Inspirational Poems For Comfort and Hope

THIS PAGE WAS CREATED IN HOPES THAT IT MIGHT HELP
EASE THE GRIEF AND PAIN SOMEONE MAY BE FEELING.
THE POEMS ARE FROM A VARIETY OF SOURCES, MOSTLY
GIVEN TO ME OVER THE YEARS. I HOPE THEY'LL BRING
COMFORT AND PEACE DURING A DIFFICULT TIME.

"THY WILL BE DONE"

"I'll lend you for a little time
A child of mine," He said
"For you to love the while he lives
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or eleven years, or
twenty-two or three;
But will you, till I call him back,
take care of him for me ?
He'll bring his charm to gladden you,
and should his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memory
as solace for your grief
I cannot promise he will stay
since all from earth return;
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.
I've looked this wide world over
in my search for teachers true
And from the throngs that crowd
life's lanes, I have selected you;
For I know you'll give him all your love
nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
to take him back again
I fancy that I hear you say
"Dear Lord, Thy will be done,"
For all the joy my child shall bring,
the risk of grief we'll run;
We'll shelter him with tenderness
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand.

Author: Edgar Guest

" LITTLE ANGELS"

When God calls little children to dwell with him above,
We mortals sometimes question the wisdom of His love.
Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to His fold,
So He picks a rosebud before it can grow old.
God knows how much we need them, and so He takes but a few,
To make the land of heaven more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult, still somehow we must try,
The saddest word mankind knows will always be "Goodbye".
So when a little child departs, we who are left behind must realize,
God loves children, Angels are hard to find.

Author Unkown

"STARS STILL SHINE"

When a tragedy has occurred;
The shock and sorrow is absurd.
As a parent, we're determined to try;
To keep our child's memory alive.
No greater way do I see;
Then donating their organs to those in need.
The tribute to your child is great;
They've saved someone, before it's too late.
Appreciation is sent from all around;
It comes from several states and towns.
Six people from ages 38-1;
Was given a chance, from our Son.
So if the situation, occurs for you;
Please keep in mind, there's others too.
Needing new organs, and a chance to LIVE ON.
Enough of our loved ones, have already gone.
Love, mom
Author:Deb Podaril

"THE DASH"

I read of a reverend who stood to speak
at the funeral of his friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first came the date of her birth
and spoke of the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth…
and now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars…the house…the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard…
are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left.
(You could be at "dash mid-range.")
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile…
remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy's being read
with your life's actions to rehash...
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
Author/Copyright: Linda Ellis

"TO REMEMBER ME"

The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet
neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital
busily occupied with the living and the dying. At a certain moment a
doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and that,
for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped. When that happens,
do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a
machine. And don't call this my deathbed, let it be called the Bed
of Life and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise,
a baby's face or love in the eyes of a women.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused
nothing but endless days of pain. Give my blood to the teen-ager
who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to
see his grandchildren play. Give my kidneys to one who depends on
a machine to exist from week to week Take my bones, every muscle,
every fiber and nerve in my body and and find a way to make a
crippled child walk. Explore every corner of my brain. Take my
cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that, someday, a
speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf
girl will hear the sound of rain against her window. Burn
what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to
help the flowers grow. If you must bury something, let
it be my faults, my weaknesses and all prejudice
against my fellow man. Give my sins to the devil.
Give my soul to God. If, by chance, you wish to remember
me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs
you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.
Author: Robert N. Test

"DO NOT 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 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.

AUTHOR: Mary E.Frye, 1932

REMEMBERING YOUR MOTHER

Because she was so dear to you,
Her memory will live on
Just as the fragrance of a rose
Still lingers when it's gone . . .
The beauty that was hers alone
In thought is with you still,
And in the hearts that love her,
She still lives,
and always will
From: Ambassador Greeting Card

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was
walking along the beach with the LORD,
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the
sand, one belonging to him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he
looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed
that many times along the path of his life there was
only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it
happened at the very lowest and saddest times in
his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the
LORD about it. "LORD, you said that once I decided
to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have
noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints, I don't understand why
when I needed you most you would leave me." The LORD
replied, "My precious child, I love you and I would never leave
you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see
only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."
Author: Margaret Fishback Powers

" LETTING GO "
A woman had a child, a sweet and loving son
but now he's up in heaven, his time with God's begun
His time on earth was joyous and brief,
And now she's suffering pain and grief.
Is he happy, is he safe, these are all her fears
And every day she thinks of him and sheds so many tears.
But then one night, in deepest sleep
into her dreams a vision did creep.
A look past Heaven's pearly gate
To catch a glimpse of her son's fate.
Thousands of young people were passing by
A great white thrown set way up high.
Though others were joyous in this procession
His face was downcast in depression.
They all carried candles as bright as the sun
But he walked in the shadows, the only one.
His Mother stared in disbelief,
Overcome with sadness and with grief.
"Why is it son, that they see fit,
To make you march with candle unlit?"
"They often relight it, they often try,
But your tears put it out every time you cry."
His Mother awoke and knew in her heart,
It was time to let go and to make a new start.
Author: Mike Lizonitz
This poem is based on a short story that I
read somewhere, then adapted it for a woman
I worked with who had lost her son in a motorcycle
accident. Two years later, she was still grieveing
daily, and I thought it might help her along in the
stages of grief. She seemed to really love it and
even included it with his picture on the
anniversary of his death.

SEND ?

TRANSPLANT
A2ZBIZ HOME

© A2ZBIZ 1995

THIS PAGE WAS CREATED IN HOPES THAT IT MIGHT HELP EASE THE GRIEF AND PAIN SOMEONE MAY BE FEELING. THE POEMS ARE FROM A VARIETY OF SOURCES, MOSTLY GIVEN TO ME OVER THE YEARS. I HOPE THEY'LL BRING COMFORT AND PEACE DURING A DIFFICULT TIME.