Leaf saunters downward
Unable to cling to life
Winter has conquered
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Leaf saunters downward
Unable to cling to life
Winter has conquered
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
How long should I stay, it’s a question of time
As long as you need I suppose, if you must.
Do we really have a say, I say no to the climb
From birth to our death, in the Divine we must trust.
One minute or years, it’s out of our control
How long we will be on this earth, we don’t know.
Fear of our passing, certainly taking its toll
For when heaven comes calling, we must go.
Try as we might, we can’t stave our own ends
Rearing it’s head, unexpected most times.
This circle of life, no mere mortal can bend
As we wait for the hour, Reaper’s bell to chime.
Be thankful for what time we have in this life, fleeting it is to be certain,
Loving your children, mother, father, husband, wife, before you draw your last curtain.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Beauty fades;
Stripped of color
Under unrelenting sun.
Once vibrant petals
Brown and crumble,
Scattering dust and seed
To the four winds.
A life run its course
Gives birth to the next generation
Through its death in the dawn of spring.
Never regretting,
Never questioning its fate
It gives itself unapologetically
For the propagation of their future.
As with all living things
We are here for a brief time
To live,
To spawn,
To die,
Returning to the earth
From which we came.
A cycle that has repeated itself
For eternity.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
As dusk settles in
We bid farewell to the day
Ushering in night
Not so unlike that of man
Drifting from life into death
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The circle,
Crimson hooded,
Black robed wickens of sorts.
Dancing around the dead,
Salivating in anticipation,
A feast of flesh and bones.
No ill will did they harbor,
Nor wish for victims demise;
Fate granted them favor.
Not at Satan’s command,
This is their nature.
Despised by the living
As a filthy wretched horde,
Outcasts of nature
Though their purpose is divine.
They are mocked and ridiculed,
Loathed and feared,
Still they offer back to the earth
What the earth has taken.
The vulture’s cry–
A lonesome song.
Treated as lepers of the sky,
Precious are they…
In the natural chain.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~