Bereavement Religion Poems

These Bereavement Religion poems are examples of Bereavement poems about Religion. These are the best examples of Bereavement Religion poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

The poem(s) are below...

Details | Rhyme |
When my life has finally left me and my last breath has been shed
And the silver cord is broken and my bodies firmly dead
I shall hover near the body, download the scenes of this past life 
Noting all minutest details rolling backwards past my eyes

I’ll store these scenes ‘til later when I can take the time to learn 
What the lessons have to teach me and help me to discern
How I treated other people, made them happy, made them sad
Examine all my actions, both the good and the bad

Three days later I’ll lose interest as my focus moves away
From the world that I just left behind, there is no need to stay
For a lifetime in the life of man to God is just a day
And my soul as God on the wheel of life must move along its way

I’ll take the download with me as I move into first heaven
It’s the first stage in the afterlife, in number there are seven
Here I’ll see and feel the good things that to others I have brought
And revel in the feelings of the kindness that I wrought

I will store these in my seed atom so in future lives I’ll know
They’re the things that I must multiply for my souls’ conscience to grow
For the conscience is the souls’ voice that guides you day by day
That still small voice that warns you in what you do and say

When that’s done my view will shift then to the things that I did bad
To the hurt I did to people that left them feeling sad
I will feel their pain intensely, ten times worse when in this field
For I’ll be purely spirit now with no flesh for a shield

These painful lessons will imprint upon my seed atom as well
In some religions we are told our soul’s in everlasting hell
In the stages of the afterlife, this is your punishment in heaven
This is the third and the most painful of the total seven

The Grim Reaper now has visited with his scythe so I will know
Through natures Law of Consequence I will reap what I did sow
He has shown me all my misdeeds and caused me many tears
And this purgatorial experience may last for twenty years

When my suffering soul recovers and the pain has died away
And I’ve incorporated the lessons to never act this way
In future lives I’ll be a better man from these lessons I have learned
One step closer to perfection that my growing soul has earned

Now I can sleep, Oh peaceful sleep, a state of heavenly rest
I’ll dream the dreams I love in life, of things I love the best
All desires that my soul has yearned, not a thing I can’t create
In the Great Silence of the spirit world to help me concentrate

The colors are much brighter, the scent of flowers more sublime
The senses are much sharper, there is no sense of time
I will see all other people as pure souls just like me
And I’ll know we’re all evolving to the bliss of eternity

I will hear the mystic music of the planets as they pass
Like a thousand singing angels, heavenly peace has come at last
Every planet sings its own song, we’ve grown deaf to this below
But in this super consciousness we’re in the eternal flow

I’ll be with my friends and family and others whom I love
The ones who left before me and currently live above
There they wait with arms wide open and rejoice when I arrive
In the fourth stage where I now live, it’s utter joy to be alive

I’ve incorporated my lessons, I now recall my goal
And my mind begins to focus on further growth of my soul
I must make further preparations and my vision starts to clear
I feel I must keep moving forward for all my works done here

I now have gone through five and six, there is just one more 
In years it’s been from birth to birth one hundred forty four
The time has come to move along and leave this place called heaven
Prepare for life in the physical world, I move to number seven

My soul has gathered the material, I now know what I must do
To make some more improvements in the places I need to
I must take another body, I must live another life
To grow and liquidate more karma though it means more pain and strife

I build an archetype of the body that in future I will form
When embodiment is offered, and I can be reborn
I will see the opportunities and be able to discern
The ideal embodiment for me when the right egg meets the sperm

I will hover near the fetus, influencing where I can
And I’ll have the power to make it be a woman or a man
I will help to build the body to suit the lessons I must learn
To overcome more issues so more advancement I can earn

When baby takes its first breath and my soul is taken in
With the imprint of my seed atoms that it has brought within
Now the babys’ atoms resonate to my seeds vibration rate
Making it the perfect body for my soul to habituate

The new body will be my new home, I will live a life anew
Gain experience, learn more lessons, through the things that I will do
I’ll apply the added knowledge that I learned in this past life
More evolved than in the last one, and cause me less pain and strife

This will happen just as often as required by the soul
As it pushes ever onward, pushing ever t’ward its goal
Of complete re-integration back from whence it came
To the universal soul of life no matter what its name

Nature is not personal, it does not seek revenge
If we mess it up we have the chance to do it all again
We arrived here by this process, nothing’s changed it’s still the same
But our souls have evolved immensely since we stepped into the game

We started out as fallen angels with no experience on this plane
We’ve grown to this by coming back again and again
Though we cannot remember for each conscious mind has died
The feelings in the soul remained in our subconscious mind

And so this is the story of the cycle of the soul
As it struggles through evolution on its way toward the goal
It’s this way for all unfailing, from natures law there’s no relief
All living things go through it, no matter their belief

Copyright © Vic Pister | Year Posted 2013

Details | Heroic Couplets |
You have soul if you know right and wrong, 
You have soul if with others you get along, 
You have soul if you talk like you mean it, 
You have soul if you say it but also do it. 

You have soul if you know the way ahead, 
But you still have soul if you can be lead, 
You have soul if you remember the dead, 
And afterwards smile, to leave your spread. 

You have soul if you admit to your intelligence, 
In the midst of a gang of rogues, deliverance, 
You have soul if you love only when you can, 
To give your lover a fair ride, not for the pan.

You have soul if you give enough to satisfy, 
And try to understand others so as to ramify, 
You have soul if you ache for political freedom, 
When you decide to shout for a victim’s reason. 

You have soul if you pick society over religion, 
Choosing the more liberal ways of tight fashion, 
You have soul if you check yourself for morality, 
And let your older figure with you the modality. 

You have soul if you see your poetry burn, vetoed, 
But nonetheless you write again to flow, it’s radioed,   
You have soul if you readdress your truth values, 
In later life, and find a happiness that for you argues.

You have soul if you’ve considered the questions, 
Found in life about belief, dignity and obtrusions, 
You have soul if you complement your many friends, 
And love as you can to cause enjoyment and ends.

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |
We only talked sanely a few times, 
About how he also had a condition like me, 
Although my dad, who had a Medical Doctorate, when James was small wouldn’t say, 
Obvious as it was that he had CF from his inward-growing finger-nails, 
Dad decided to bypass the issue, medicine to assail. 

I have CP, and needed James’s comfy chair to read, 
It was given to him in misogyny because it was blue, 
About three months before he died he said, 
I could have it, and must convince mum and dad that it was mine;
They were Christians, fundamentalist and strict, 
And so sometimes there was an elephant in the room,
Between me and James, about the physical.

Death is inevitable, but to them it was only a maybe for James, 
When the doctors had said that 14 was the expectation, 
I prepared myself for the worst well before it occurred, 
As an atheist I am, with no qualms or hesitation. 

James wanted for me the best, happiness and friends, 
Wanted me to do my best physically, ‘cos he knew I wanted that too,
But he also suspected that I would grieve for him rightly, 
Not like a sentimental fundamentalist who believes that Jesus is risen, 
But as a steadfast atheist who knows what has been given; 
So he knew to remark on my immediate life without him so as to adjudicate. 

I cherished Christinna Georgina Rossetti’s poem, Remember, 
Long before and for some time after James’s death, 
And quietly held in my heart the loved-one’s good wish, 
Mum used to think that sometimes I was cold as stone, 
But really I'd faced the fact that James was dead and gone. 

Although Rossetti was by no means an atheist, 
Her poem recites the mantra of the bereavement psychologist,  
That to get on with your life as best you can,
Is a right, the partner of grief, and the pathway for your lone self;
In the Bleak Mid-Winter puts Christ as relational to nature,
Instead of pertaining nature to Christ, as it is normally, 
And so we must partake of it within our space and our pasture. 

Rhoda Monihan 


Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse |
It appeared on the doorpost as a Cyclops' smiley face
 For some Cyclops WhatsApp icon, but red-themed application
 Yes gruesome red, in contrast to the expectation
 You would get from a smiley face, even for a Cyclops.
 It quizzed my curiosity and I dug further on Google’s interface. 

It appeared on the search page as the queen Isis,
 Long told in Hieroglyphics, Cyrillic and Roman alphabet,
 Patroness, mother, queen, blessings with love met,
 But unlike these grim Arabic script in an ominous logo,
 And tales of death, pain littered with deeper crises
It told of “nuun”, 14th letter of a blessed script
 In which many beautiful and wise thoughts found life,
 A letter which told of blessing and not of strife
 Being in a position multiple of seven, a number blessed
 By God Himself when he Earth and Heaven in 7 breaths whipped
It told of the Magen David, a shining star, which should be a good thing
 Only that it brings memories of gaunt bodies piled in trucks
 And human experimentation, and as history at our door knocks
 And Isis or Isil opens to let in what we dread most
 “Nuun” is stuck in my iris with pain and scary sting. 

For I have seen the blank stare of heads painting in red drips the pickets
 And Leonidas’ 300-style gore re-enacted in modern city streets
 As heads are divorced from bodies and all around are scared heartbeats
 For even bloodied child clothes cover head-less bodies,
 As Christians are beheaded like one would roast crickets. 

It brings back memories of my ancestors up in the Samba regions,
 Fleeing the harsh choice given to them by the jihadists:
 To adorn the village picket or join the cause of the Islamist,
 Forced to create a third choice, which was to leave their homes,
 Friends and family to pseudo-Islam or lurid lethal lesions. 

Is it that time again for Iraqi Christians?
 Shall the world once again watch the Red Indians’,Tutsis’, and Jews’
 Story take gruesome form and hack through human sinews?
 How many litres of innocent blood, and kilogrammes of hacked Christian flesh
 Are needed to realise the vanity in the life of Homo sapiens? 

(c) Nyonglema

Copyright © Nyonglema Pisoh | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
"Love is the fingerprint of the soul."
~ Jodi Livon ~

Art is an expression of Love.
~ Russell G ~

Our soul wants to sing.
Songs that are not of this nature.
They are fluent in dreams,
And we call them expressions.

In the books, in the art,
In the dance, in the music,
In a thousand ways,
We express those illusions.

We can not comprehend,
We can not quite get them.
We wage wars, we make peace
For the same loving reasons.

We not Gods, so don't try
To put any on paper.
This where logic will die
But an artist wakes nations.

We can only absorb.
We can sense but not touch it.
On a physical side
Soul has gift to unwrap it.

While you're "here" don't waste time.
From an artist to baker
Act, express all your love
To understand our "maker".

Copyright © Russell Grushco | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Finns dog just died
And a loyal friend was he
I picked two shovels up
And passed one to McGee

It's body in a box
Was carried just by Finn
As we slowly made the walk
Where the funeral would begin

As we made it to the church yard
Father Shamus met us there
As he looked inside the box, he said
"You can't bury THAT in here"

Finn looked so heart brokin'
And McGee began to cry
So I took it on me self to ask
Where might we ,let him lie

Father Shamus said, 
"There are Baptist down the road
I'm not sure of their believes
but, it's OK I've been told

"And Father",  Finn replied
"Do you'd think that they would mind
I'd like to donate thousands
For this gesture, that's so kind

"BEJEEZUS !" Said The Father
"Are you all that bloody thick
Why didn't you first tell me
Your dog was a .......Catholic"  

Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |
Once upon a time I found myself at a
crossroads in my life.  I met the demon
patiently standing at that dark intersection
He has always been here, waiting for me
I had felt so entranced, so obliged by
his inviting demeanor that I 
Found myself hastily signing away 
in red ink—my soul on the pale white parchment.
It mattered not what pact or price, for I
Would have given it away for nothing.  
Truth be told, I never cared about
The conviction in the soul, or notion of salvation.
I felt no love in the skies from above
So I signed away that fictitious faith.
I would rather feel something 
Even if it is only regret. 
Unafraid of whatever may be my fate
I left my gods bleeding on the side of the road
I burned the bodies of dread and disdain.
Never again to doubt or abstain.
And I knew I would be better off without—
Without the guilt and inhibition
Without trying to stifle my ambition
No longer full of jaded hurt
Free to writhe within the dirt
And feel the pulsing of the earth.
All my desires be gratified.
All my cravings be satisfied.
And come to see the pact I’ve made
Between the world and myself.
Nothing promised and nothing owed.
Free to love, to flourish and grow
Instead of waiting for death to bring meaning

Copyright © Samuel Lee | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |
If I could see you just one more day, 
I’d ask for a diary, and everything would be ok. 

I’d ask you for a scribe at school, cool, 
With whom nobody would fool. 

He’d write it for me, when I’d dictate, 
About life, religion, hobbies and the things that I did hate. 

‘Cos I couldn’t keep one at home, 
As my parents my computer used to roam.

And they would never have validated a diary for me objectively, 
Without getting to read it, peering into my mind nosily. 

It would’ve resolved all my problems dead, 
Because I know that I did chat with the school doctor and the head. 

About things not right at home, with my parents, 
Which were sortable, if I’d been able to recollect what was said in all my appointments.  

You could’ve ordered my parents not to interfere, 
With my record of achievements about my fear. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
Je déteste les attaques ISIS vendredi, 
Ils etaient ignoble, dégoûtant et le mal, 
Au nom de Dieu pour la religion, 
Avec les mentalities és dans l'oubli 

nous devons justifier structures démocratiques, 
En défense, en tuant tous les terroristes
Et la question de l'acceptation de Dieu, 
Avec les valeurs humanistes personnes. 

Il ya de tout dans la liberté, 
De pensée, de parole et d'expression, 
Et si vous ne pouvez pas accepter cela
Vous devez apprendre la leçon.

English translation:

I hate the ISIS Paris attacks on Friday 
They were vile, disgusting and evil,
In the name of god for religion 
With mindsets in oblivion 

We must justify democratic structures 
In defence, by killing all terrorists,
And question the acceptance of god,
With humanistic people values.

There is everything in freedom 
Of thought, word and expression,
And if you can't accept that,
You need to learn the lesson.

About the ISIS attacks in Paris on Friday 13th November 2015

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
A man of faith waits his turn 
to propel to the luxuries of heaven.
Last night he slept alone 
with rosaries hung upon his headboard.
A recent convert to the Catholic faith.
Exposed to God through steel bars.
He sleeps in peace, repentant and calm.

A family restless blasts the heavens
awaiting retribution for a brutal sin.
A family sleeps in a home
with an empty bed, in an empty room.
A daughter, a sister waits in heaven.

I repent, therefore, I am free
To live forever in luxury
Heaven awaits for me to come
God is thy Father, and I his Son

He took my child forever away
And here on earth, tormented I stay
I pray for her, and I pray to cope.
Faith in God, I remain to hope

Copyright © Anthony Guccia | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Once I could recall every birthday
To places I had been I knew the way
From memory I could sing gospel songs
I knew each verse, not a word would be wrong

I taught children to say the alphabet
A basic in life they must not forget
I helped them learn to add and to subtract
To multiply, divide, and be exact

I could organize a holiday meal
Entertain family and friends with zeal
Clean house, set the table, and decorate
Cook all the fixins and never be late

But then I would forget and be confused
From activities I myself excused
Alzheimer’s stole my dignity and glory
My life began a different story

My soul filled with pain, denial, and tears
As the disease tarnished my golden years
My heart beat but I could not remember
Nothing was left but a dying ember

You visited me but I never knew
My moments of understanding were few
The world became small, I rarely cracked a smile
Lonely, I lingered, through this earthly trial

Then God’s angel came in death and in love
We made the trip to the promised place above
I met Jesus, I worshipped and adored
He gave me a house I could not afford

I’ve met the neighbors, I know them by name
Seen old friends, now some new ones I can claim
I’ve not been here long but it feels like home
I know where I am, not afraid to roam

So don’t cry for me, but laugh and rejoice
I am singing hymns with new mind and voice
Of the heavenly choir I’m a member
And every song I can remember

Copyright © Brent Cloyd | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose |
In bands of endless sand, where life peeked through new
The sunlight swatches skin, beneath cooked antique cloth 
Natives abide the ceased courier, pigeons plucking past
Markets marked with clenched jaws, gravel grinded toes

Cities etched by tribal cleave as dusty binoculars blur
Mothers bearing children under an ever-blackened flag
Godforsaken region once held clues of cradles edge
Now crimson tears sift throughout the ink of lost ideals

Below a leafy marquee, is aweary child in slumber
To all, his eyes manifest
To them, merely function
Beautifully resting, looped in imaginations elastic

Rituals rip open eyes, he is trained under the creed
Final duty done today, under misguided mutiny
Forfeited, as another guessed loanee of the gods

Out, out!
Tender light
Through the open window that is life
Illuminates eternity 
Mingling between sun and sea
Little soul extinguishing the flames

Copyright © Nicholas Rush | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
We cannot separate Mother Mary and Saint Joseph
They’re having so much connection
With the mystery of Incarnation of Eternal God
Joseph, being guardian of the Virgin’s spotless honor
Foster-father of the Divine Babe

Mother Mary’s family thought be made known
She might not be stoned by the Jews as an adulteress
Thirdly, that in her flight; have the comfort of a husband
St. Ignatius add yet a fourth reason namely that is birth might hid from the devil
Looking for Him to be born of a wife and not of a Virgin


Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
This is a Hat that Heals,
no gimmicks, no tricks, no steals.
I hate this is your trial, so go through it with style,
I pray this eases your pain,
and new hope and faith you gain.

This is a Hat that Heals
your smile will seal this deal
someone loves and cares in a special way
so smile big, laugh it's okay.

Things will get better soon
Your Healing, their is still time and room
Forget all your troubles for now
God will breakthrough someway or somehow

I care and love you today
Remember, love makes sickness decay
You are loved no matter what 
Perfect in every way no buts

This is a Hat that Heals,
no gimmicks, no tricks, no steals.
As you go about your day,
remember I thought of you this way.
This is a Hat that heals.

Copyright © barbara green | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
He loved you as a boy, 
Now he writes you, 
Nature overwrites your coffin,
And that dark funeral lark; 
He can express himself endlessly,  
According to nature,
and according to all technology. 
Even your corpse needs,
By the look on your face there,
Your faith shook you cold, 
So now you speak, 
But he will tell of your warmth,
Which the fern shall seed, 
In church soil damp, 
After the funeral. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |
First of all, Grandma left us.
Now Grandma’s gone to be with the Lord
But thank God I know better.

O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?
I could pour out all the questions
But thank God, I know better.

It’s just a playback of the same old
Why You? Why Now? Why Lord?
Sufficient whys till infinite eternity 
But thank God I know better.

Thank God I know better
That in Christ, it’s never goodbye
See You Later Grandma.
@SEPTEMBER 2017/©M.H.O.G Unveiled

Copyright © Aina Oluwafisayomi | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
Faith, a mythical bird of your imagination
Sent by an imaginary friend to defend you
who will only help if you have heaped on adoration 
I'm not sharing inside information just a realisation, faith isn't your friend !
did faith cure cancer or stop amputations its very over rated 
did it save your relations from cremation and stop the emotional devastation 
nope !, faith isn't your friend, It promises to deliver you from damnation ,salvation 
yet dare to question and excommunication without  no questions   
so in summation have nothing to do with faith related observations. 
because faith isn't your friend 

comp entry 04052016

Copyright © stephen pennell | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
If your even vaguely religious and
 think God is the creator.
 Kneel, clasp your hands together and pray
 because I need the answer,
 why the hell is there Cancer?
 It has no regard for age,colour or creed.
 What is the thinking behind this indiscriminate disease?
 If you get a response please tell me please.

Copyright © timothy kendall | Year Posted 2017