What is the Measure of a Man’s Life

What is the measure of a man’s life,

I don’t know but for myself.

Money never bought me happiness;

At least none that lasted more than a brief moment.

Cars…I’ve had many,

Exciting when shiny and new,

But their luster is lost over time as is their value.

I do not live in a palace,

It is modest to say the least and more than I need.

Retirement savings are but a dream,

I will likely work until I am called home.

With all this…what is the measure of my life?

It is family, my wife and children,

Their love for me as I love them.

It is the sun that rises overhead

And the life-giving rains that fall,

It is everything that nature provides.

It is living in harmony with the natural world,

Not fighting it or conquering it.

Yes, there is bad mixed with the good,

Pain and suffering mixed with the ecstasy,

But at the end of my days,

This will be the measure of this man.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

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Must We Acquire

Must we acquire,

Hoarding what we do not need?

This–the western way,

Insatiable avarice

For money and possessions.

What is this sickness?

Is not a roof, bed and food

Enough to appease?

Incessant hunger say no

As we persist to garner.

When the bell does toll

We find this was all for naught;

None of it mattered.

Kindness, love and happiness

Were all we ever needed.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Were Today Thy Last (Sonnet)

Were today thy last, wouldst thou giveth all ye had,

Or wouldst thou hoardeth as the miser does.

Hiding his worth from all his lasses and lads,

Vowing to take it with him as if thy soul it was.

~

Foolish art thou who believeth this lie,

For nothing of this world shalt survive the beyond.

To ash it doth turn on the day that we die,

It matters not how precious nor how fond.

~

Thy treasures are but bobbles, no worth doth they hold,

Once thou hath taken thy deep and final breath.

Arrogance and greed, both foolhardy and bold,

Revealed as thou art lowered to thy grave upon death.

~

Giveth now with the fullest of hearts for thy time upon earth is but brief,

Resulting in lightness and joy in thy heart to thy soul this shalt come as relief.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

A Thing of the Past

A thing of the past

We have become ungrateful

Feigning excitement

Mesmerized by Black Friday

And all of its false idols

Its meaning replaced

By glossy ads–hypnotic

And sworn good fortune

Thanksgiving–gone to the heap

With Christmas soon to follow

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~