Maybe this poem will soothe in this month of remembrance of all the dead.
By May Doney
Who were our flesh and blood once, and are still
A part of us in sympathy and will,
We should not grieve so, thinking death had banned
All sweet communion with life’s spirit-land,
But fancy in each faint delicious thrill
That stirs us when Heaven’s cisterns overfill,
Droppings of comfort some near love had planned.
Death brings them nearer to us: human sense,
Earth-dulled, is all the barrier that hides
The adjacent country where each one abides;
And we shall wonder, when we too pass hence,
Our hearts were thwarted by so frail a fence,
And could not break the weak wall that divides.