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June's radio show explored both the idea of myth and specific myths themselves. Listen back here and read below for key poems about myths that could be used in a funeral service or celebration of life ceremony.
Myth by Natasha Trethewey
I was asleep while you were dying.
It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow
I make between my slumber and my waking,
the Erebus I keep you in, still trying
not to let go. You’ll be dead again tomorrow,
but in dreams you live. So I try taking
you back into morning. Sleep-heavy, turning,
my eyes open, I find you do not follow.
Again and again, this constant forsaking.
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Again and again, this constant forsaking:
my eyes open, I find you do not follow.
You back into morning, sleep-heavy, turning.
But in dreams you live. So I try taking,
not to let go. You’ll be dead again tomorrow.
The Erebus I keep you in—still, trying—
I make between my slumber and my waking.
It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow.
I was asleep while you were dying.
The Song of Wandering Aengus By William Butler Yeats
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Mythology BY Chelsea B. Desautels
At first it was easy to tell the story
because it was actually happening
right then so we could tell each other
the story of how a disease infiltrates
a body but even then we did not recount
all the parts only the best ones
ending with how strong we were
and graceful but it started to get harder
because you had to go back to work
and I was still sick so now it was just me
and new people and most people
don't want to hear your story
of grief unless they knew you before
see grief in a new person is ugly but
I kept practicing because I was hopeful
that one day I might tell the part
about that morning in bed—you remember—
the lake was choppy and it was hot
and raining so we closed up the house—
remember it was you and me
and the baby in bed—she was hungry
and I had to roll away and then we were crying
because we knew it was beyond the point
whether we were strong or graceful
and you were crying too and in fact
I'm still trying to tell that story
or at least write it down but I end up
talking instead about food and baby formula
and freezers of breast milk from strangers
and how to arrange the bags precisely
so the milk doesn't sour and of course
I always mention gratitude because
people like that ending.
The Death of Socrates by Plato
Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is great reason to hope that death is good, for one of two things: - either death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or, as some men say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this world to another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of someone undisturbed even by dreams, then death will be an unspeakable gain, for eternity is then only a single night. But if death is the journey to another place, and there, as men say, all the dead are to be found, what good, O my friends, can be greater than this?
Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and know this of a truth - that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death.
The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways - I to death, and you to life. Which is better only God knows.
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