No Greater Love
when the fallen log
becomes home, food, life
for lichen, squirrel,
ant, termite
bite by bite
bark to bare plank
pulp revealed
chips and pieces
for hidden species
resin seeps
tree trunk weeps
letting go
of plans
to grow
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
Our Poetry Host this week is Michelle at Michelle Kogan!
If you believe in the multiverse, you understand the entirety of space, time, matter, and energy can exist in one fallen log.
My kids are cringing as I read that sentence outloud. They tell me I clearly don’t know what I’m talking about. LOL– I love it when they launch into kid-splainings!
But I know of what I speak. On my daily wonder-walks into the forest beyond our home, I get to see the world of detritus at work. Or, at least the teeny part visible to my human eye.
25 years ago, I led my kids, nieces, and nephews through this same forest path. A recently fallen log gave us the chance to inspect its inner rings up close. They named that log “The Birthday Tree” because they would go every year to count its concentric rings.
As adult children, traversing this path enroute to more difficult trails, they stopped to look for The Birthday Tree. Snow and more fallen branches and time had compressed the log so that it was almost unrecognizable.
Yet, there it was. Still home to bugs and lichen. More holes bored into what remained of the inner wood; its bark long ago melded with the forest floor. Still giving life to the forest multiverse.
No greater love.
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. 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. 
Sorry, kids! Mom’s got it just right with the first sentence! What a love, indeed!
Mom’s know best, right? Thanks, Mary Lee!
As a fellow frequent forest wanderer, Patricia, I can identify with your fascination for fallen trees and logs and the whole notion of giving back even in a state of decay and decline. Enjoyed the sense of sharp rhythm I got from your poem, I also enjoyed the alliterative elements gently nestling among your chosen words. Great word, detritus…
Thank you, Alan; I really appreciate your kind read.
How powerful! I love this! I also love all of the alliteration and consonance in your poem.
Thank you, Marcie!
You have made the process of decay and renewal so evocative. The “letting go/ of plans to grow” is stunning at the end.
Thank you, Janice. There’s so much to unpack about decay and renewal!
It’s really beautiful the way life’s journeys work, a tree loved in all its growth, then its giving back at the end. Your poem shows that part beautifully, Patricia. I love each part, especially “chips and pieces
for hidden species”.
Thank you, Linda!
Nature has a way of taking care of its own, and I love your reflections about this fallen log. We have woodpeckers who love our dead trees for the feast of bugs they contain. They’re pretty noisy though. 🙂
Yes! Nothing quiet about the forest! Thanks, Jama!
The beauty of one fallen log and all it holds, waits for us to stop and ponder—Lovely poem and commentary, I especially like the reflection and calmness you offer, thanks!
Yes, Mom is right. 🙂
A beautiful reflection on the circular nature of nurture, Patricia.
Thank you, Karen!