Life in the present
Perhaps our most precious time
What else do we have
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Life in the present
Perhaps our most precious time
What else do we have
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Looking across the field
Sun blinding me
I’m in a trance,
Mesmerized by the grassy wave.
How did I get to this place
Where so much promise lies before me,
Yet believing the best is already behind?
With each step I trample the tender shoots,
Very much like my dreams…
At one time flowing freely
Bending with the wind,
Now ground back into the earth
From which they were born.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
I’ve tripped and fallen,
Arose battered, cut and bruised
Yet I’m undeterred.
Life is not always painless
Nor always terribly kind.
Instinct says to run,
To hide from that which injures
Becoming recluse.
I refuse to run or to hide,
Cowering in human fear;
Preferring instead
To face my future head on
Whatever may come.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
I am not a wise man,
Questions–I have so many,
A seeker am I.
No–this is not a complaint.
My path is profoundly worn,
Worn by ancestors
All belonging to my tribe,
My brother humans.
Neither the first nor the last;
Others will travel this road
Leaving blood and sweat
As markers of their journey…
Of this I am sure.
I take solace in this fact
That I’ve not ventured alone.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Each second-hand tick
A chance for reinvention
The past is the past
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Nighttime horizon
Ever thick and unnerving
So like our futures
Riddled with anxiety
Let us focus on the now
  ;
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
It’s all I can do
To focus on this mortal life.
I know there is more,
That time is an invention,
Something man can comprehend.
To Realized Ones
Past, present, future are now.
This I desire,
Though it seems so far away.
I long to spend time seeking,
Looking deep inside
To find that unified place
Where God and I become one.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Secondhand whispers
Softly, rhythmically droning
Fleeting in countdown
Too busy–we wish them gone
That is until the drone stops
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Hidden amongst ash
Bones and memories still thrive;
Haunting the living,
Choosing not to let them go
They are invited to stay.
We welcome them in
Sharing with them–our futures,
Our hopes and our dreams,
Only to be left in chains
Imprisoned by our dark past.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Each tick of the clock
Signifies a new “present”
No past, no future
There is only this moment
Why not make the most of it
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~