“…to be part of something larger…”
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I mentioned last week that I’m reading through Margaret Renkl’s THE COMFORT OF CROWS: A Backyard Year. It is luscious and I relish one essay every few days. This one felt particularly timely.
“I can scroll and worry indoors or I can step outside and remember how it feels to be part of something larger, something timeless, a world that reaches beyond me and includes me, too.”
Margaret Renkl
The Beautiful World Inside the Broken One: Spring Week 4
Last week, I joined The Sugar Pine Foundation to plant seedlings in national forest land near our home. What a joy! –the physical aspect of carrying twenty seedlings into the forest to search out open sky and good soil, seeing them safely into their new homes; and also, knowing some 500 seedlings spread out in our forest, wait patiently for nearby mother trees and the mycorrizal network to bring them into the fold, to do the work of diversifying and bringing this forest to health.
sugar pine seedling
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tiny seedling that I am
I make this covenant to the community of caregivers
humbly, I ask
find a mother tree
plant me spade-deep in soil
give my roots a chance to connect
anchor in the mycorrizal web
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I promise to remain open to light
to learn to hold the world’s work
to learn the ways of tree-being, silent and tireless
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you will cheer me on
check on me
if you forget me, I will not forget you
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I will grow
stem to trunk, seedling to sapling
branch, limb, cluster of needles
I will join the ancients
my offering of love to a world in need
of forest joy
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©draft, Patricia J. Franz
May 14, 2024
This is me, planting a 3″ Sugar Pine seedling, then marking it for a watering crew who will come each month this summer. Its mother tree is the picture at the top of this post!
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Thanks for hosting Patricia and for doing your bit for the world, one seedling at a time. From little things, big things grow.
Well said, Sally! And these babies get VERY big – hundreds of feet. It delights me to know there are 500 newbies growing nearby.
What a lovely poem! Love that you planted those seedlings — making the world more beautiful with trees and words. Thanks for hosting this week.
Thank you, Jama. It felt like a gift to be able to give these tiny things a good start.
Thank you, Patricia, for planting these trees and doing something real for the environment, giving love to the world, as you express so poetically.
It really was such a joyful day. I can’t wait to do it again!
There are so many wonderful things about this poem. I love “spade deep in soil” and “I will join the ancients.” It was so great to chat with you this week about poetry and PBs. 🙂
I had such a sense of the community of trees as we planted these seedlings, knowing that the under-webbed roots were going to find these little guys and get them connected. Nature’s onboarding!
Lovely ❤️
You are such a sweetie to read these, Kathy!
Hello Patricia, thanks so much for hosting this week. My goodness, the seedling speaks…in such a beautiful tender way, “hold the world’s work,” “mycorrizal web,” “I will not forget you,” “forest joy.” All so uplifting and hopeful–just what I need right now. Comfort of Crows sounds fabulous. I hope it’s on audible…off to add it to my wish list right now.
Renkl words lead me to all sorts of places! Thank you, Linda.
Love the connectivity in your poem and in this post Patricia–your poem’s voice so hopeful and strong makes you feel good when reading it! When my son now 29, was about 4 my parents gifted him a scotch pine tree about 4″ high. It’s now probably at least 30 feet high, and hard to believe the tree and he (6′ 4″) have both grown so handsomely tall, soulful, strong. Thanks for this hearty post and for hosting us! Sending positive thoughts your way for your young sugar pine seedling!
Oh Michelle! What a wonderful gift! I hope I will be able to look on these seedlings in 20 years and see the growth, too.
As Michelle said, I, too, like the connection you make between the seedling and the planter – the personification is touching. Thanks for hosting, Patricia!
Thank you, Matt!
Oh, Patricia, how lovely!
“I promise to remain open to light” could be an anthem for us all.
Thanks for hosting!
I’ve been inspired by all we are learning about how trees communicate with one another – and Margaret Renkl’s sense that nature knows we are present. Thus, the seedling’s promises.
I love that you participated in this project, Patricia! That full-grown tree is a sight! I like the idea that the seedling has a parent figure for oversight and protection. Your poem written in the first person really captures the gravity of the moment.
It takes a village, right? We know now that mother trees care for many, many other trees – even beyond their own species. Is that the coolest or what??
Love the link between your reading and your actions, Patricia. That book reminds me of Pilgrim At Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard. Your poem gently captures the potential and hope encapsulated in the act of planting seedlings -‘I will join the ancients.’ Thanks also for your hosting duties. Your post is a wonderful provocation to participate in something larger.
I’m so glad you see the connection to Renkl’s essay. Thank you, Alan!
How wonderful the action, for the future, for all of us to know and remember, Patricia, “to a world in need/of forest joy”, I thank you! It’s a beautiful, hopeful poem. Thanks for hosting, too!
It certainly was a joy for me, Linda. Thank you.
“the ways of tree-being” and “forest joy” – what a glorious poem! And such a lovely thing to do for the forest and the world (and yourself!). Thanks for sharing & hosting this week, Patricia. [I don’t have my PF act together this week but left a signpost pointed here! ;0) ]
Enjoy your week off, Robyn, and thank you for the signpost!
Oh, Patricia, what a precious poem and experience that you were able to write about. I love: “to learn to hold the world’s work / to learn the ways of tree-being, silent and tireless” This is really something special. Thanks for hosting and thanks for sharing your tree-planting experience. And I really like your introduction to Poetry Friday here. Beautiful.
Thank you, Denise. I hope to join them to do more plantings this summer. Our Sierra forest needs them!
Patricia, I will glady take some of your forest joy and join in the ways of tree-being, silent and tireless. Your words make me refect on the excitement you felt as you planted seedlings in a nearby national forest land. Thank you for hosting today.
The gift of seedlings from a seedling! I’m glad they brought you contemplation, Carol.
I love how intentional you were about identifying the mother tree! May this baby grow strong and tall. You restored both a forest and a little bit of my hope in humanity and the world! (And thanks for hosting us, too!)
The mother tree is key! And it can even be a different species; how cool is that?
What a beautiful connection you made between your reading and your poem. The personification is perfect, giving us a poem full of hope. I especially love that last stanza where the sapling envisions itself growing. It’s almost as if it is answering Mary Oliver’s question about what you will do with your one precious life.
“I will grow
stem to trunk, seedling to sapling
branch, limb, cluster of needles
I will join the ancients
my offering of love to a world in need
of forest joy”
I am joining a group this weekend to learn more about bird migration and hopefully catch sight of some travelers. I hope to feel part of something larger, too.
Thanks for hosting today!
And I know you’ll be inspired to write about it, too, Rose. I am forever intrigued by the varied birds I find here in the mountains. We have a mountain chickadee who sings “cheeeese burger cheeeese burger,” and I read in Renkl’s book the carolina chickadee sings a different song. I wonder if it’s their accents? -lol
You grow, girl! Thanks for hosting and planting and being YOU! 🌱
lol- it is MY pleasure, Bridget.
Dear Patricia, YAY for planting seedlings and for this poem in little seedling’s voice…delightful! I’m enchanted by The Comfort of Crows two. Thank you for bringing your special magic to PF Roundup today! xo
Thank you, Irene. Renkl is a beautiful writer. You’ll enjoy her book.
“if you forget me, I will not forget you”–Patricia, thank you for doing the outer word, spade-deep, and the inner work, mother tree. And thank you for hosting!
I’m intrigued of late with the emerging idea that nature knows we are here – not just our oft-heavy footprints; they sense our presence. Food for thought…
I love that we are growing our understanding of trees! “wait patiently for nearby mother trees and the mycorrizal network to bring them into the fold” would not have been common knowledge before. Thanks for stewarding trees (and our poetry community)!
Thanks to Susan Simard and the scientists who are doing the real work!
Patricia: Thanks so much for hosting today, and congratulations on the tree planting. That’s a great service. Isn’t it great to get out and breathe fresh air and put your fingers in the earth? I love it! To be part of something bigger. Your seedling poem has great voice and vocabulary. Thanks again…
Yes! It’s complete selfishness on my part; a way to be outdoors but also help the community! Thank you, Karen.
Patricia, how beautiful! Thank you for the photos and for planting. But most of all, thank you for your tender poem. I love the stanza about being open to the light. And I love love love the line: if you forget me, I will not forget you. It’s full of so much love. And acceptance, but not blame. Sigh. Thanks for hosting this week and for this lovely start to my weekend.
Laura, Thank you for the kind words. I’m glad my poem moved you.