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Jerry W. Engler

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· Highly Embellished Truth & Some Poetry: Just Folks Three

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· Just Folks: Earthy Tales of the Prairie Heartland

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· The St. Louie Bird Call

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Books by Jerry W. Engler
  Season's Climax
by Jerry W. Engler
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Jerry W. Engler
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           >> View all 82

Fall can be a time for poignant happiness, for silent meditation concerning what life brings.

Lonely Heart,

floating high

in the sterling pure

of a sunlit, blue sky

where the whirling blackbirds

cavort in celebration

on the twirling wings

of acrobatic ecstacy,

the autumn jubilation,

their summer’s abundance

confirmed in new fledglings

bonded to flock,

joyfully, joyfully they fly

above the round, plump-grain

red fields of sorghum grain,

the milo in wait of harvest,

above the golden shining

brown-eyed yellow sunflowers,

summer’s last glow in road ditches,

the season’s apex affirmed

over and over in bird dance.


Lonely heart,

where is your dance

in all this exaltation?

Ah, you feel the end

of freely given October warmth

sinking down to bleak November,

and beyond the coming solstice,

season of death

when the leaves

shrink to crisp brown,

and even the blackbirds shudder

against the cold or migrate,

while you are genuinely alone,

no love to warm your dwelling,

even the holidays expressions

of the shrinking of that apex.


Lonely heart,

sink not to that deep well,

that all is final,

but choose to bask

in the purity of grace,

for even blackbirds come again

to tend the eggs and nestlings,

the revolving of the seasons,

confirming life over and over,

imbedding it within your soul,

soar high,

a blackbird in your spirit,

set free of loneliness,

by affirmation of wisdom

through your long life

that every season brings

new joys forever and ever again,

all ending bringing beginning.


Copyright 2009, Jerry W. Engler

Jerry W. Engler

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Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis 10/11/2009
Beautiful, vivid writing. You've eloquently expressed the appreciation as well as the misgiving that comes with the "turning inward" season. Fall hosts its grand ball of color and shimmer as it celebrates itself once more before yielding to the introspection and still of what can be a very long, cold withdrawal.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 10/7/2009

Thank you for this tribute to my favourite season, Jerry. Love and peace,

Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 10/5/2009
Often times, although I love autumn, I have viewed it like a prelude to "death"...always having a problem with the season that follows...winter. It is only recently that I have been able to appreciate life's cycle...and you have written of this so beautifully.
Reviewed by Jean Pike 10/5/2009
Jerry, what a lovely tribute to my favorite season, autumn. Your imagery is stunning:

above the round, plump-grain

red fields of sorghum grain,

the milo in wait of harvest,

above the golden shining

brown-eyed yellow sunflowers

And I love that it all comes full circle with the birds returning to nest again in spring, as life also comes full circle. All so beautifully, vividly portrayed in your verse. Gorgeous!
Reviewed by Cryssa C 10/5/2009
This poem touched my heart today, as I muddled through the third anniversary of my mother's death. At first I felt the melancholy strains of the lonely heart of which you wrote, but the last stanza brought the joy of new beginnings to the forefront. I am sure my mother wouldn't want me to be bemoaning my loneliness, but would want me to be looking to the the promise of a new tomorrow and new joys that await in the life to come...
Thanks for reminding me, my friend.
Reviewed by David Hightower 10/5/2009
Jerry - Enjoyed "Season's Climax" which you captured with the movement of your vivid images. Especially liked those last two lines,

new joys forever and ever again,

all ending bringing beginning.

- David
Reviewed by Elizabeth Price 10/4/2009
Beautiful imagery. Liz
Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER 10/4/2009
Precious wisdom in silver thread, beautiful, Jerry!
Blessings! Jasmin Horst
Reviewed by Jeanette Cooper 10/4/2009
A beautiful poem filled with the mood of autumn that does sometimes feel like an ending instead of a beginning. Your last line denies that concept. For me, it means a recycling of leaves--oh my goodness, do I ever have a lot to rake.
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