Poems for people in heaven
N.T. Wright Quotes (Author of Surprised by Hope)
Richard Burton reads the haunting poem 'The hound of Heaven' by Francis Thompson
10 Beautiful Poems About Death
Use the form above to find your loved one. You can search using the name of your loved one, or any family name for current or past services entrusted to our firm. I see the countless Christmas Trees around the world below, With tiny lights, like Heaven's stars, reflecting on the snow. The sight is so spectacular please wipe away that tear, for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year. I hear the Christmas songs that people hold so dear, but the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here. I have no words to tell you the joy their voices bring, for it's beyond description to hear the angels sing.
Drinking from the waters of sorrow sustains a different kind of life. This river is hidden from the rest of the world. Tears drip from my chin and fall into an endless flow of liquid love. This river sparkles with beauty. A fearful thing to love, to hope, to dream, to be — to be, And oh, to lose. A thing for fools, this, And a holy thing, a holy thing to love. For your life has lived in me, your laugh once lifted me, your word was gift to me.
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Sadly missed along life's way, quietly remembered every day No longer in our life to share, but in our hearts, you're always there., A death in the family leaves a void that cannot be filled. No one can ever take the place of this individual in the world.
Create a Rainbow Residency for your beloved Fur Child. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor.
If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam, And noon should burn, As it has usual done; If birds should build as early, And bees as bustling go,— One might depart at option From enterprise below! It make the parting tranquil And keeps the soul serene, That gentlemen so sprightly Conduct the pleasing scene! How wonderful is Death, Death, and his brother Sleep! There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though we were drowning inside our hearts, as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul. And there are corpses, feet made of cold and sticky clay, death is inside the bones, like a barking where there are no dogs, coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere, growing in the damp air like tears of rain. Sometimes I see alone coffins under sail, embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair, with bakers who are as white as angels, and pensive young girls married to notary publics, caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead, the river of dark purple, moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death, filled by the sound of death which is silence.