Sympathy Poems Clipart Where Can I Find A Sympathy Poem For My Neighbor Who Lost Her Son?

Where can i find a sympathy poem for my neighbor who lost her son? - sympathy poems clipart

This was sent to me as my son died. And I live in a cooking site that the memory of his son, who died of cancer.



Not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am one thousand winds that blow, I am a piece of diamond in the snow.

I am the sunlight on ripen grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.

On waking in the morning silence, I rise early peak of quiet birds circled flight.

I'm the star, the soft light at night.

Not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there.

I'm not dead.

Author Unknown

5 comments:

ace said...

Try the poem notebook side has some very beautiful poems in his area of sympathy.

robert p said...

Psalm 23 and other psalms.

silverbi... said...

If you do not like. Use your own words.

thewolfs... said...

I do not know if they do not want or can use, but I would like to share with you. This is a speech by Robert G. Ingersoll was at the funeral of a child. It gave me comfort when I lost my younger brother.

I know what it is in vain to gild a grief with words, and yet I get out all the grave of her fear. Here in this world where life and death of the kings of equality, everyone should have the courage to fulfill, which meets the dead. The future is with fear, stained and soiled met by the past, no heart. From the magnificent tree of life the buds and blossoms fall with ripened fruit, and the common bed of earth, the patriarchs and babies sleeping together.

Why should I fear, happen all that? We can not say that we do not know what the good - life or death. We can not say that death is not good. We do not know whether the grave is the end of this life or the door of another, or when the night is it somewhere else for a sunrise. We can not say it's the happiest - the child dies in the arms of his mother before his lips haI have learned a word, spell check, or that all travel the length of the bumpy road of life with chronic pain, not least slow with the staff and crutch.

Every cradle asks us "Where?" and every coffin, "Where?" The barbaric, poor, weeping over his death, these questions can be answered, and put the priests in the true faith. Ignorance of the tears on the one hand, since these words of wisdom and folly of the other beautiful. No man stood on the horizon of life has touched a grave, has the right to predict a future of pain and tears.

It may be death gives value to life. If not could die of the press and the tension in the arms, maybe the love disappear from the earth. Is this common destiny enters the road from our hearts the weeds of selfishness and hatred. And I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not. Another life is nothing, unless we know and love, once again, that we are here.

The heartbroken ArouND this little grave, never fear. The greatest and noblest faith in everything and this must be, tells us that death itself is even worse, that perfect rest. We know that with the common necessities of life - the needs and duties of each hour - their pain reduced day by day, until this fall will be for them a place of tranquility and peace - almost joy. Not stand not for them this consolation: "The dead. When you get to live again, your life will be so good as ours. We have no fear. We are all children of the same mother, and the fate that awaits us all. We have our religion, and it is this: Help for life - hope for the dead.

Murphybo... said...

I have always taken a quote from Benjamin Franklin when he said: "Long life is not always sufficient, but a good life, not out. He added that two cards of sympathy for parents who have lost both a young son cited. They said it was a relief, because even when they were young, they had a good life!

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