A rainy October day out on the farm. I'm sitting at the desk by the kitchen window looking out over the golden hayfield with a faint view of Baldpate Mountain in the distance. I'm thinking about the seasonal transformation that's occurring right before our eyes and the way in which a new season seems to bring an element of hope to those who are longing for change. I realize that we probably all have our favorite time of year and are often sorry to see it fade away as the world moves us along through the years of our lives.

This time of year especially brings the poetry of Robert Frost to mind for me. In my perhaps lack of literary sophistication, I prefer poems that speak about ordinary life in subtly grand ways. That's why the works of Billy Collins, two time U.S. Poet Laureate, are also at the top of my list. Collins writes about everyday objects and scenarios in a manner that delightfully captures an almost mystical essence of things we simply take for granted or don't even notice.

Many years ago I was invited to perform some music at a poetry reading that featured the works of local amateur poets. I was astounded by the maudlin tone of the evening. Every poem was either about death, suffering, or general human misery. Apparently the idea was that only that kind of outlook on life was worth considering and had any meaning. It seemed as if each poet was trying to outdo the others by rendering even more grotesque images of life.

In the meantime, between readings, I was performing folk songs and the music of John Denver. I was beginning to feel very shallow and almost embarrassed to be joyfully singing about the other side of life. Then all of a sudden I had what the Japanese call a "satori"--an instant awakening. I suddenly saw that it was my job to try and help lift people out of the poetic doldrums. Each time it was my turn, I sang even more joyfully and heartily.

Some of the poets looked a bit disturbed for me interrupting their gruesome images of the human condition, but I kept right on anyway. Honestly, we were a poor match. I regret having felt in any sense competitive. The persons who had arranged the evening had heard me perform before and decided that I'd be a fit ingredient to an artsy event.

The point is that, as far as I'm concerned, while I recognize that life does, in fact, contain a sizable element of misery for many people, to focus on that alone as if it were the whole of life, is not just a depressing outlook, but is counterproductive to making the world a better place. One of the responsibilities of those who would change the world for the better--shift it into a new season--is to become aware of even the simple joys of life. Those are found right with the everyday world in which you and I live. Perhaps that sounds trivial, but I believe that with my whole heart.

If possible, find time to sit quietly and read some poetry during this season of transformation. Or put on some music that has a poetry all its own and sit quietly and meditatively, listening to every nuance of artistry. Or write your own poem as you look out the window or as you take a walk. But by all means, be thankful for the delightful elements of everyday life that make being here a wonder.