I always like when families request a poem to be read at a funeral. A poem can sum up a person or an emotion in just a few words. Sometimes, as in Lonely Funerals, where the person we are honouring may have had few or no friends, relatives, connections, there is very little information – yet a poem can make an eloquent statement.
Of course many people don’t care for poetry and there’s no point choosing something simply for the sake of it. The last thing you want to do as a celebrant is give families extra stress by encouraging them to look for something that will “sum up” their person when neither they nor that person had the slightest interest in poems.
But there’s no doubt that poems are powerful and, when well read, they can set a tone or can pull memories and biography together. Well known funeral poems are chosen precisely because they put into words the feelings of the mourners. “Do not stand at my gave and weep”…. “An honest man here lies at rest”…”Do not go gentle into that good night”.
Maybe the person had a favourite poet. Mary Oliver or Yeats or Rumi…. Or a search on the internet for “funeral poems for mothers…. fathers … sisters”, whatever is appropriate, will bring up lots of options.
And these days, people use AI to generate poems. I’m wary of AI but this seems a perfect use of the technology. A family member gathers information about the person, details of their personality, their likes and loves. And AI creates a poem: that is, AI writes text with poetic order and style … but, to me, these are really written by the family member.
This week I had another fascinating example of a poem created by a family member. They had used a simple prompt “You were….” started every verse with those words and then given an example of that person’s life and character. Here are just a few examples:
You were swimming in the sea, dressed crabs at Crail and awful bright red speedos!
You were so funny, quick-witted and sharp as a tack.
You were board games, snakes and ladders, Grandpa’s shop, hide-and-seek, bubbles and ice cream in the garden.
You were our anchor.
You were Our Dad.
No need to rhyme, or worry about rhythm or metaphor. No need to make the verses equal in length or follow some chronological order. Just a series of heartfelt observations and memories that so vividly evoked this man. And something that any family could do. Perhaps each member writing a line or two in a way that allows people to feel they have really contributed to, and participated in, the funeral.
This particular poem was read at a natural burial. I then read a eulogy. It’s always risky having a eulogy at an outdoor burial because the Scottish weather can be unforgiving. In the event we were lucky, the threat of rain didn’t materialize. But if the heavens had opened, I would have had to cut things short. In this case perhaps just reading the poem, leaving the eulogy till the tea. And while that wouldn’t have been ideal, the power of these words would have made it a fitting and perfect tribute in itself.
[Thanks to V for permission to quote from “You Were…”. I am dedicating this post in memory of your beloved dad, C]