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Afterlife

Modern Plain English Non-religious Uplifting UnusualFor a child

Becky Hemsley

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Afterlife

Becky Hemsley

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

serany.app

Where to read it

Read it free on Becky's own site

What Serany thinks about this poem

Modern Plain English Non-religious Uplifting UnusualFor a child

Meaning

A tree lists what it might come back as: a dragon, a tavern owner, an ant, a rocket. Then it explains it will become the pages of a book, and asks you to go and read to the trees.

Who's it for

A child's funeral, or a family who want somewhere hopeful to put the question without naming a religion. It is playful on purpose.

Becky Hemsley

British

beckyhemsley.com

@talkingtothewild

@beckyhemsleypoetry

Becky Hemsley taught in primary schools before writing full time, and lives in Leicestershire. Six collections since 2021, two of them written entirely for grief. She gives around fifty of her poems away free on her own site.

More about Becky Hemsley →

More uplifting poems

15 in all

See all 15 →

A Psalm of Life

This poem is for someone who never sat still and left things behind them: a business, a trade, a houseful of people they taught. Right for a life spent being useful.

UpliftingA classic

1838

2 min

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,--act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;-- Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

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Barter

This poem is for a person who got a lot out of being alive: weather, music, food, their children's faces. Right where a family want the funeral to be about the living they did.

UpliftingNot about death

1917

50 sec

Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children's faces looking up Holding wonder like a cup. Life has loveliness to sell, Music like a curve of gold, Scent of pine trees in the rain, Eyes that love you, arms that hold, And for your spirit's still delight, Holy thoughts that star the night. Spend all you have for loveliness, Buy it and never count the cost; For one white singing hour of peace Count many a year of strife well lost, And for a breath of ecstasy Give all you have been, or could be.

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Death, be not proud

This poem is for a believer, and a family who want something with some fight in it rather than a quiet goodbye. It suits a person who argued back all their life.

A classicReligious

1633

55 sec

Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so: For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me. From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow; And soonest our best men with thee do go-- Rest of their bones and souls' delivery! Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell; And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

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Hope is the thing with feathers

This poem is for someone who stayed hopeful without ever making a show of it, and kept other people going by it.

ComfortingUplifting

1891

30 sec

It is not growing like a tree

This poem is for anyone who died young, and a family who need to hear that a short life was still a whole one. Right for a person who packed a lot in.

Gone too soonUplifting

1640

35 sec

Joy, Shipmate, Joy!

This poem is for a sailor, or anyone who was happiest setting off somewhere new. Right for a family who want something glad said out loud at the funeral.

UpliftingFor an adventurer

1871

20 sec

July

This poem is for somebody whose whole character was warmth, and who people arranged themselves around. Read by anyone who copied her on purpose.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

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No coward soul is mine

This poem is for a person whose faith was entirely their own and who had no time for churches. Right for someone nobody could frighten.

StoicUplifting

1850

1 min

No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere: I see Heaven's glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear. O God within my breast, Almighty, ever-present Deity! Life--that in me has rest, As I--undying Life--have power in Thee! Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts: unutterably vain; Worthless as wither'd weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main, To waken doubt in one Holding so fast by Thine infinity; So surely anchor'd on The steadfast rock of immortality. With wide-embracing love Thy Spirit animates eternal years, Pervades and broods above, Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears. Though earth and man were gone, And suns and universes cease to be, And Thou were left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee. There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou--Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

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On Death

This poem is for a family who want hope without a particular religion behind it. Right for someone curious about everything, who wasn't frightened of what came next.

UpliftingComforting

1923

40 sec

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

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Prospice

This poem is for someone who fought their illness all the way and wanted to know exactly what was happening. Also right for a person going back to a husband or wife who died first.

Fought to the endStoic

1864

2 min

Fear death?--to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go: For the journey is done and the summit attained, And the barriers fall, Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so--one fight more, The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore, And bade me creep past. No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!

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She Is Gone

This poem is for a mother or a grandmother, and a family trying to turn back towards living. Right for someone who'd have wanted everyone to get on with it.

UpliftingComforting

1981

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

The beautiful thing about dying is this

This poem is for almost any funeral. Especially right for a family who are frightened of forgetting.

ModernPlain English

2025

1 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

More unusual poems

16 in all

See all 16 →

Afterparty

This poem is for a family being swallowed by the ugly end of grief. It tells them what the anger is made of without asking them to feel better yet.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Because I could not stop for Death

This poem is for someone unhurried, who took things as they came and was never frightened of what was ahead.

A classicGentle

1890

50 sec

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labor, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 't is centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity.

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chasing ceremony/convincing myself

This poem is for somebody who loved them and cannot be in the room. Right where a brother is abroad, a sister is too ill to travel, or the person who knew them longest is the one who has to watch on a screen.

ModernPlain English

2021

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Death, be not proud

This poem is for a believer, and a family who want something with some fight in it rather than a quiet goodbye. It suits a person who argued back all their life.

A classicReligious

1633

55 sec

Read the whole poem →

Dirge Without Music

This poem is for a family who are angry about it and would rather not pretend otherwise. Right for a death that makes no sense to anyone who knew them.

UnusualNon-religious

1928

1 min

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned. Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you. Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust. A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew, A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost. The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,— They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve. More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses of the world. Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

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Epitaph on a Friend

This poem is for a best friend, especially one who died young. Right for a family who would rather the grief were said out loud than smoothed over.

For a friendGone too soon

1807

2 min

Oh, Friend! for ever lov'd, for ever dear! What fruitless tears have bathed thy honour'd bier! What sighs re-echo'd to thy parting breath, Whilst thou wast struggling in the pangs of death! Could tears retard the tyrant in his course; Could sighs avert his dart's relentless force; Could youth and virtue claim a short delay, Or beauty charm the spectre from his prey; Thou still hadst liv'd to bless my aching sight, Thy comrade's honour and thy friend's delight. If yet thy gentle spirit hover nigh The spot where now thy mouldering ashes lie, Here wilt thou read, recorded on my heart, A grief too deep to trust the sculptor's art. No marble marks thy couch of lowly sleep, But living statues there are seen to weep; Affliction's semblance bends not o'er thy tomb, Affliction's self deplores thy youthful doom. What though thy sire lament his failing line, A father's sorrows cannot equal mine! Though none, like thee, his dying hour will cheer, Yet other offspring soothe his anguish here: But, who with me shall hold thy former place? Thine image, what new friendship can efface? Ah, none!--a father's tears will cease to flow, Time will assuage an infant brother's woe; To all, save one, is consolation known, While solitary Friendship sighs alone.

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Glass Balloon

This poem is for anyone frightened that this will not get lighter. It is honest that it might not, and says you get stronger arms instead.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

I found God at the funeral

This poem is for a family who are angry and not ready to be told it was for the best. Right where somebody died too young and nobody in the room has made their peace with it.

ModernUnusual

2025

2 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

I Shall Not Care

This poem is for someone who was their own person and never needed anyone's approval. Right for a woman who did things her own way and would have hated a fuss.

UnusualNon-religious

1915

25 sec

It is not growing like a tree

This poem is for anyone who died young, and a family who need to hear that a short life was still a whole one. Right for a person who packed a lot in.

Gone too soonUplifting

1640

35 sec

No coward soul is mine

This poem is for a person whose faith was entirely their own and who had no time for churches. Right for someone nobody could frighten.

StoicUplifting

1850

1 min

Read the whole poem →

No flowers, please

This poem is for someone who didn't want a fuss and said so. Right for a family who'd rather people came round than sent flowers.

ModernPlain English

2025

30 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

More modern poems

41 in all

See all 41 →

Afterparty

This poem is for a family being swallowed by the ugly end of grief. It tells them what the anger is made of without asking them to feel better yet.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Again

This poem is for anyone in the first terrible weeks who has caught themselves wishing they had never met. It is the answer to that thought.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

All At Once

This poem is for a family who feel they are grieving wrongly, especially anyone who caught themselves laughing. It tells them nothing has gone wrong.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Bus Shelter

This poem is for someone who thought the fuss about dying was a bit much. Right for a commuter, a queuer, anyone who spent their life waiting patiently for things.

FunnyModern

2015

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

chasing ceremony/convincing myself

ModernPlain English

2021

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Chasing Tomorrow

This poem is for a family who keep saying they wish they had had more time. It turns that into a resolution instead of a regret.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Dirge Without Music

This poem is for a family who are angry about it and would rather not pretend otherwise. Right for a death that makes no sense to anyone who knew them.

UnusualNon-religious

1928

1 min

Read the whole poem →

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

This poem is for almost anyone, honestly. It's best of all for someone who was always outside: out walking, in the garden, never in the house.

A classicComforting

1932

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Firsts

This poem is for a family looking down the barrel of the first year. It does not tell them it gets better, only that it stops happening for the first time.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Flowers

This poem is for a family dreading the first birthday and the first anniversary. It hands back the obligation before anybody has to feel guilty about it.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Friendship

This poem is for a friend, read by a friend. It suits the person who turned up without being asked, over and over, for years.

ModernPlain English

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Funeral Blues

This poem is for someone who was everything to one person. It's for a mourner who doesn't want cheering up yet, and there's nothing better for a partner.

Tear jerkerNon-religious

1936

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

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