The sun of his last day sets
clear in the sweetness of his liberty.

the hallow of his life remaining
in all his death leaves.

Grown lighter than breath,
he is set free in our remembering.

he goes dark
into the life of the hill that holds his peace.

He's hidden among all that is, and cannot be lost.

Wendell Berry

Something told the wild geese

it was time to go.

Though the fields lay golden

something whispered, "snow."

Leaves were green and stirring,

Berries, luster-glossed.

But beneath warm feathers

something cautioned, "frost."

All the sagging orchards

steamed with amber spice,

but each wild breast stiffened

at remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese

it was time to fly -

summer sun was on their wings,

winter in their cry

Rachel Field

Crossing the Bar

This is often used for scattering of ashes at sea

Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness or farewell, When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far,
hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar.

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson

GRANDMOTHER

The bright needles clicked

the old woman’s hands

quick, dextrous and expert

were a blur of colour

“Your new gloves are finished”

she eased them on to

my short plump fingers

“Now you can play in the snow”

I ran into the street, excited

the gloves soft, warm, dry

were a magical source

of safety and love.

Time drew on

my winters grew colder

the snow fell thicker

today my gloves

are faded and threadbare.

Her needles are silent

and my hands are cold.

for Fathers, Grandfathers and Husbands

Memories Keep Those We Love Close To Us Forever

Hold fast to your memories,

to all of the cherished moments

of the past,

to the blessings and the laughter,

the joys and the celebrations,

the sorrow and the tears.

They all add up to treasures

of found yesterdays

that you shared and spent together,

and they keep the one you loved

close to you in spirit and thought.

The special moments

and the memories in your life

will never change.

They will always be in your heart,

today and forevermore.

by: Linda E. Knight

Cast Your Fate To The Wind

A month of nights, a year of days,

Octobers drifting into Mays;

I set my sail as the tide comes in

And I just cast my fate to the wind.

I shift my course along the breeze;

Won't sail upwind on memories.

The empty sky is my best friend,

And I just cast my fate to the wind.

Time has such a way of changing

A person throughout the years;

And now I'm rearranging my life through all my tears

Alone, a - lone?

There never was, there couldn't be

A place in time for one like me

Who'd drink the dark and laugh the day

And let their wildest dreams blow away.

So now I'm old, I'm wise and smart;

BUT just a one with half a heart.

I wonder how it might have been

Had I not cast my fate to the wind.

Words & Music by Vince Guaraldi

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum,

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let the airplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message "He is dead".

Put great bows around the white necks of the public doves.

Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my north, my south, my east, and west,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.

I thought that love would last forever. I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one.

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

By W. H. Auden

Afterglow

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 behind when day is done.

Helen Lowrie Marshall