Meandering Creek (Haiku)

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Meandering creek

Whispers softly as it flows

Eternal journey


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


I’m Not My Body

I’m not my body.

It’s nothing but a flesh vase

Holding the real me.

The me that was before this,

The me not of this world,

The me of spirit.

Who I was before my birth;

Nothing but essence,

Not created or destroyed,

The me of eternity.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Ember And Wolf

Embers waft skyward

Like a million tiny suns.

Free to travel ,

Going where the wind takes them,

Caring not where they land

Nor what the future holds.

Their time is now,

Today is all there is

As spark turns to ash.


Wolf, drinks and hunts

Taking only what he needs.

Caring for the survival of the pack;

Not one bit more does he consume.

Living for today,

Feeding their future,

As it has always been,

As it will always be,

Until flesh turns to bone.


Man the hoarder,

Eats and drinks to excess.

Gorging himself,

Engaged to the point of gluttony,

Feasting on food and goods

As if life were an eternity.

Living for today,

Collecting for tomorrow,

Denying his mortal end.


Simple ember,

Lowly wolf,

Live by their design

Within the boundary of nature.

Man exploits all that he’s been given,

Accepting what he needs

Then grabbing what he wants,

Leaving nothing

For the ember and the wolf.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Ravaged By Nature

Sullied winds chatter chimes lashed to greyed beams

Warped and splitting with age, appear none too long for this world

With each ring an angel must surely get their wings

As remuneration for a melody so heavenly revealed


Steps crippled, squeal as mice in traps are bound to do

Bowing under the burden of the weary traveler

Fortitude ingrained, revives the weakened conscripts

Whose preparation has made them cordial adversaries


Tawny hinges weathered by sun, beaten by the wind cry in pain

Remorse etched into their hammered finish confesses their age

Chagrined by subjugation, the door slams

Announcing defeat to it’s audience of none


Dark but for dust pirouetting through muted shafts of light

Stirred by shuffling boots, tattered and worn thin by extended employ

Creaking under foot, floorboards rebel in unison with their owner

Shrunken and contorted from the weight of existence


Ping of coils break the stagnant silence of the vessel

Sagging lumpy seat replaces a once firm cushion

A quiet ah, escapes from the lungs in expiration

Sense of relief but for the strain of fabric


Cracking joints echo of broken glass in freefall

Legs wobble by exhausted mortise and tenon

Laden with rings, table balances precariously in an uncomfortable dance

Unsteady and unsure, time has reaped it’s revenge


Tired well beyond youth, mortality returns from holiday

Waiting to reveal what lay interred beyond these walls

Neither refinish nor repair prolong to eternity

Only temporary and finite are the workings of men


Man conspires with the dwelling in cosmic ways

Each subject to the ravages of the lifetime moment

Materially morphing into a shell of the original creation

Inevitably conceding to nature’s crowing fate

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Gone Is Gone

Image credit  -

Image credit –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Wasted away with reckless abandon

Abused and neglected as though nothing to lose

Elder years bestow the treasure most deeply cherished

For in youth we’re blind to the riches worth

Trusting the vein will flow eternal

“till tragedy or life doth rear it’s head

Once lost to gluttony its lost to eternity

No matter how hard we try to relive

Regret can destroy through foolishness folly

As we know not when we be called back home

Squander not the gift so limited and precious

Share freely with those you most dearly love

The value of time cannot be embellished

For fleeting moments once gone are gone

A Question of Eternity

Credit -

Credit –

By D. R. DiFrancesco


Who am I

Did not my spirit exist be for me

Perhaps not in this form,

Though most surely it did exist.


The things I am are not new to me

My essence existed at the beginning

Conception did not create it nor can death destroy it

So who was I before.


Maybe a river running through Africa

A blue whale navigating the seas

Or maybe a playful butterfly flying on high

Could not part of me have existed in all of these.


In this I find comfort

The body being merely a vessel

Temporary and dispensable on loan from the earth

To be gladly returned upon passing.


The energy that is me remains

Free of this vessel

Free to become whatever the universe deems fit

Glorious and unhindered by my physical being.


There is peace in thoughts of this

Knowing I have always been and will always be

Could this be the eternal life spoken of in religion

Whether of God or of nature, we may never know.

Wither Away

By: D. DiFrancesco

The pain of watching one wither away
Indescribable and yet inescapable
Remembering how vibrant and energetic they were
We think they will never go away.

I can still see her
In the kitchen apron on making a meal
It doesn’t matter which one it was
They all are precious memories to me.

I was a child
She was everything to me back then
Eyes shining, the silkiness of her voice
These were some of my happiest days.

Then childhood passes
Like the sweep of the second hand
Harsh reality clings like beads of sweat
Those once so virile commence to fade.

We try to stave off the inevitable for as long as we can
But alas it proves useless
No magic elixer can halt the decline
How swift does frailty overcome us.

Her eyes have sunk into evenings dark abyss
The hunch in the back, a sign of a life of burden
Her stride gives way to a shuffle
The mercy of others her only salvation.

No longer able to self-sustain
Twilights arms embrace who she once was
A child returns from where it started
The circle of life incarnate.

Her mobility has vanished, now forever prone
But oddly the memories of her past are clear
Thoughts from more modern times she can’t remember
Eternities multitude is calling her home.

She’s withered away, her grace in passing inspires
In her destiny we see ourselves
We fear this most as our time here is finite
To our maker we must trust our mortal souls…farewell.