Helen van Rijs
Humanist Funeral Celebrant

Helen van Rijs Humanist Funeral CelebrantHelen van Rijs Humanist Funeral CelebrantHelen van Rijs Humanist Funeral Celebrant
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Helen van Rijs
Humanist Funeral Celebrant

Helen van Rijs Humanist Funeral CelebrantHelen van Rijs Humanist Funeral CelebrantHelen van Rijs Humanist Funeral Celebrant
Home
About me
How it works
Testimonials
Poems
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  • Home
  • About me
  • How it works
  • Testimonials
  • Poems
  • Contact

  • Home
  • About me
  • How it works
  • Testimonials
  • Poems
  • Contact

Poems - Gardening & Nature

‘In the garden at dusk’ by Joyce Grenfell

In the cool of the garden when the evening draws in

Serenity waits where the shadows begin

In the fragrance of dusk and the murmur of clover

The concerns that we carried pass peacefully over

Flowers in their fullness shed blessings about

And the turmoil of living fades quietly out

Hope glimmers through each evening star

And our cares will shrink to the size that they are.



‘Autumn’ by Rainer Maria Rilke

The leaves are falling, falling as from far off,

as though far gardens withered in the skies;

they are falling with denying gestures.


And in the nights the heavy earth is falling

from all the stars down into loneliness.


We are all falling. This hand falls.

And look at others; it is in them all.


And yet there is One who holds this falling

endlessly gently in his hands.



‘I am there’ by Iris Hesselden

Look for me when the tide is high

And the gulls are wheeling overhead

When the autumn wind sweeps the cloudy sky

And one by one the leaves are shed

Look for me when the trees are bare

And the stars are bright in the frosty sky

When the morning mist hangs on the air

And shorter darker days pass by.


I am there, where the river flows

And salmon leap to a silver moon

Where the insects hum and the tall grass grows

And sunlight warms the afternoon

I am there in the busy street

I take you hand in the city square

In the market place where the people meet

In your quiet room - I am there


I am the love you cannot see

And all I ask is - look for me



‘Farewell, Sweet Dust’ by Elinor Wylie

Now I have lost you, I must scatter

All of you on the air henceforth;

Not that to me it can ever matter

But it‘s only fair to the rest of the earth.

Now especially, when it is winter

And the sun‘s not half as bright as it was,

Who wouldn‘t be glad to find a splinter

That once was you, in the frozen grass?

Snowflakes, too, will be softer feathered,

Clouds, perhaps, will be whiter plumed;

Rain, whose brilliance you caught and gathered,

Purer silver have resumed.

Farewell, sweet dust; I never was a miser:

Once, for a minute, I made you mine:

Now you are gone, I am none the wiser

But the leaves of the willow are as bright as wine.



‘A poem’ by Ewan McColl (taken from the lyrics of Joy of Living)

Take me to some high place

Of heather, rock or ling

Scatter my dust and ashes

Feed me to the wind

So that I will be

Part of all you see

The air you are breathing


I’ll be part of the curlew’s cry

And the soring hawk

The blue milkwort

And the sundew hung with diamonds


I’ll be riding the gentle wind

That blows through your hair

Reminding you of how we shared

In the joy of living



‘Digging’ by Seamus Heaney

Between my finger and my thumb  

The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. 


Under my window, a clean rasping sound  

When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:  

My father, digging. I look down 


Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds  

Bends low, comes up twenty years away  

Stooping in rhythm through potato drills  

Where he was digging. 


The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft  

Against the inside knee was levered firmly. 

He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep 

To scatter new potatoes that we picked, 

Loving their cool hardness in our hands. 


My, the old man could handle a spade.  

Just like his old man. 


My grandfather cut more turf in a day 

Than any other man on Toner’s bog. 

Once I carried him milk in a bottle 

Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up 

To drink it, then fell to right away 

Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods 

Over his shoulder, going down and down 

For the good turf. Digging. 


The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap 

Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge 

Through living roots awaken in my head. 

But I’ve no spade to follow men like them. 


Between my finger and my thumb 

The squat pen rests. 

I’ll dig with it.


 

'A Child's Vision' by Alfred Noyes

Under the sweet-peas I stood

And drew deep breaths, they smelt so good.

Then, with strange enchanted eyes,

I saw them change to butterflies.

Higher than the skylark sings

I saw their fluttering crimson wings

Leave their garden-trellis bare

And fly into the upper air.

Standing in an elfin trance

Through the clouds I saw them glance….

Then I stretched my hands up high

And touched them in the distant sky.

At once the coloured wing came back

From wandering in the zodiac.

Under the sweet-peas I stood

And drew deep breaths. They smelt so good.



‘I sit beside the fire and think’ by JRR Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen,

of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were,

with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be

when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see.


For still there are so many things that I have never seen:

in every wood in every spring there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago,

and people who will see a world that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,

I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.



'I Heard Your Voice In the Wind Today' Author 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 windowpane

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.



Reading - 'Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature' by Kathleen Dean Moore

May the light that reflects on water be this wild prayer.

May water lift us with its unexpected strength.

May we find comfort in the "repeated refrains of nature," the softly sheltering snow, the changing seasons, the return of blackbirds to the marsh.

May we find strength in light that pours in under snow and laughter that breaks through tears.

May we go out into the light-filled snow, among meadows in bloom, with gratitude for life that is deep and alive. 

May Earth's fire burn in our hearts, and may we know ourselves part of this flame--one thing, never alone, never weary of life.



'Loveliest of trees, the cherry now’ from ‘A Shropshire Lad’ by A.E.Housman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough,

And stands about the woodland ride

Wearing white for Eastertide.


Now, of my threescore years and ten,

Twenty will not come again,

And take from seventy springs a score,

It only leaves me fifty more.


And since to look at things in bloom

Fifty springs are little room,

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow.



'Japanese Maple' by Clive James

Your death, near now, is of an easy sort.

So slow a fading out brings no real pain.

Breath growing short

Is just uncomfortable. You feel the drain

Of energy, but thought and sight remain:


Enhanced, in fact. When did you ever see

So much sweet beauty as when fine rain falls

On that small tree

And saturates your brick back garden walls,

So many Amber Rooms and mirror halls?


Ever more lavish as the dusk descends

This glistening illuminates the air.

It never ends.

Whenever the rain comes it will be there,

Beyond my time, but now I take my share.


My daughter’s choice, the maple tree is new.

Come autumn and its leaves will turn to flame.

What I must do

Is live to see that. That will end the game

For me, though life continues all the same:


Filling the double doors to bathe my eyes,

A final flood of colours will live on

As my mind dies,

Burned by my vision of a world that shone

So brightly at the last, and then was gone.



'Warm Summer Sun' by Mark Twain

Warm summer sun,

    Shine kindly here,

Warm southern wind,

    Blow softly here.

Green sod above,

    Lie light, lie light.

Good night, dear heart,

    Good night, good night.



'Her laughter was better than birds in the morning' by Cecil Day Lewis

(gender can be adapted i.e she,her)


Her laughter was better than birds in the morning,

Her smile turned the edge of the wind,

Her memory disarms death and charms the surly grave.

Early she went to bed, too early we

Saw her light put out; yet we could not grieve

More than a little while,

For she lives in the earth around us, laughs from the sky



‘Many Winters’ by Nancy Wood

The earth is all that lasts.

The earth is what I speak to when

I do not understand my life

Nor why I am not heard.

The earth answers me with the same song

That it sang for my fathers when

Their tears covered up the sun.

The earth sings a song of gladness.

The earth sings a song of praise.

The earth rises up and laughs at me

Each time that I forget

How spring begins with winter

And death begins with birth.



‘Come to the Forest to Visit Me’ by Lurana Brown

Come to the forest to visit me

Down by the roots of a tree

Waste not your tears on cold stone graves

Water a flower for me

Give me to the earth when my winter comes

Bury me deep in the ground

Mark not my place with statues or caves

Find me where life can be found

Come to the woods when autumn leaves turn

Golden and copper and red

Rustle up memories, seeds of joy stored

Kick up the leaves in my stead

Visit a garden on warm, summer days

Keep company with blossoms and bees

Remember my heart blooms forever in yours

Take comfort from shushing shade trees

Let springtime surround you with life and the living

Birdsong and budding green leaves

Look up at the sky; give thanks for sun and rain

When you think of me, smile more than grieve

Come to the forest to visit me

Down by the roots of a tree

Live every day that is given to you

Water a new flower for me



'Margaritae Sorori' by W.E. Henley 

(This poem offers a serene and peaceful view of death as a natural part of life)

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:

And from the West,

where the sun, his day’s work ended,

Lingers as in content,

There falls on the old, gray city

An influence luminous and serene,

A shining peace.


The smoke ascends

In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires

Shine and are changed. In the valley

Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,

Closing his benediction,

Sinks, and the darkening air

Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night –

Bight with her  train of stars

And her great gift of sleep.


So be my passing!

My task accomplished and long day done,

My wages taken, and in my heart

Some late lark singing,

Let me be gathered to the quiet West,

The sundown splendid and serene,

Death.



‘Rose Garden’ by Liz Newman

(gender can be adapted i.e he,his)

But loved ones, remember:

For all the roses that grew

She tended and planted

Whole gardens in you.

Her heart warm and nurturing,

Her love strong and deep

Resilient and rooted

Yours to tend and to keep.

Her humor a harvest

Her love gently blooms

Her comforting presence

Still fills up a room.

For now we’re her roses.

Her legacy of light and care.

The whole world will marvel

and know that she was there.



‘Go Now’ by Caroline L Wilkes

Go now into those hills.

Where the sun meets the land with its permanent spills

 of orangey glows and promise of dawn.

Be part of the sunrise as each day is born.

Go now, go to the lakes where the water of glassy light mirrors the sky.

Where the freedom and memory breathe through the land

 and those gone before take hold of your hand.

Go now to where you can wander,

 where your warrior spirit can now take some rest.

Camp under the stars, your battles are through

 there’s only adventure waiting for you.

But just look behind to where you once lived,

To the pride we feel in all that you were.

Respecting you more than perhaps you did know.

But now it’s your time and we must let go’



'Footprints' by Robert Longley

Few things are as fleeting

As footprints in the sand;

Sometimes we walk alone

And sometimes hand in hand.


Both paths tell a story

That waves may wash away;

As long as we have the memory

They live with us each day.


Come to the beach and remember;

Make some footprints of your own,

And think of days now absent

And the memories we’ve known.


The water can be healing –

It always was for me –

Just take time to remember

And I think that you will see.



‘Take Time’ Author unknown

Take time to gaze at a sunset sky

Where colours blaze to dazzle the eye.

Take time to watch a moonlit sea

And look in awe at a towering tree.

Take time to look in the heart of a flower

Adorned with diamonds from a gentle shower.

Take time to view a mountain high

With snowy peak ‘gainst bluest sky.

Take time to listen to the song of birds

A paean of joy without need of words.

Take time to tell your closest friend

Your love and loyalty will never end.

Take time to stop and stand and stare

At wonders round you everywhere.

Take time to make time

Take Time.



'Into a Brighter Day' Helen Steiner Rice

There is no night without a dawning

No winter without a spring

And beyond the dark horizon.

Our hearts will once more sing…

For those who leave us for a while

Have only gone away

Out of a restless, care worn world

Into a brighter day



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