Observing September and the Lens of Life


Sliver of a Moon at Dawn Lisa A. Wisniewski

September entered my area in traditional form:  cooler breezes, clearer skies, and lower humidity levels.  A sliver of a moon at dawn today made September’s entrance elegant in a quiet way.   The heavier dew on the grass and a breeze that smelled sweet from lawns mowed the night before created a calm beginning to the last month of summer.


Changing Skies Lisa A. Wisniewski

Throughout the day, I watched the sky change shades of blue as the clouds rode the current of the soft wind.  While running and biking tonight, I found my mind clicking its way through many different thoughts, most of which centered on life events, questions about the future, and how times leads the soul through both good and bad times, certain and uncertain situations, and everything else in between.

Reflecting upon these thoughts, along with the sights, sounds, and events of the day made the words to the following poem come to life:


Faint Moon at Dawn Lisa A. Wisniewski

The Lens of Life

In the sliver of a moon at early dawn,
In the shiny dewdrops upon
The green, oh, so green grass
Making sweet the breeze blowing past,
In the quiet moments of first light,
In the colorful roses upon the seven sisters’ vines,
And in the song of the whippoorwill
Calling from the pond over the hill,
Nature says, “Welcome, welcome, my friend.
Come explore time’s extents
From a different view and a rather unique light
Made possible through the lens of life.”


Green Green Grass and Clover Lisa A. Wisniewski



Royal Purple Joe-pye Weed Lisa A. Wisniewski

In the royal purple of the joe-pye weed,
In the elegant circles of the crown vetch weaved
Along the hillsides and roadways,
In the quiet song of the sun’s rays
Flowing from heaven to earth below
To make God’s presence known,
In the whisper of the wind and the hush of the rain,
Nature calls to deliver the soul from its pain,
“Come, come, lift your head up high.
Discover your potential through the lens of life.”


Crown Vetch Lisa A. Wisniewski


Wood Moth on Goldenrod Lisa A. Wisniewski

In the delicate wings of the wood moth
As it feeds upon the goldenrod,
In the graceful flight
Of the hawk way up high,
In the innocence in the eyes of the young fawns
Grazing in the sun at dawn,
In the white clouds floating in the blue sea
Of the sky that surrounds all that comes to be,
Nature calls, calls to the soul,
“Come, come, see time unfold
From its woven mosaic in colors bright
Seen more clearly through the lens of life.”

-Lisa A. Wisniewski


White Clouds in a Blue Sea Lisa A. Wisniewski


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