AAA~What Falls Continues

No one hears the crack and groan,
the slow lean that takes three days
before gravity wins

A Tuesday storm finishes
what root rot started,
what beetles prepared

The tree falls with all the ceremony
it can muster

Branches catching neighbors’ arms,
crown crushing ferns
that spring back by evening

Where it lands becomes the new map

First night: mice find the sudden bridge
above wet leaves
By dawn, pathways run beneath the bark

Rain finds the lightning scar,
begins teaching wood to soften
Each drop a patient lesson

Beetles arrive with ancient purpose
No blueprint, no plan
just the work of making galleries
in heartwood

The fungi keep their own time
White threads mapping territories
no one sees

A bear, months later,
tears the bark searching for grubs
Doesn’t know it’s planting
the next forest

Spores on claws carrying futures
Salamanders claim the damp spaces
underneath
Their eggs glisten

Years now
The tree’s edges soften,
boundaries less certain

Is it log or soil?
The question matters only to language

Seedlings rise from what was heartwood
Their roots follow channels
carved by water, carved by time

The tree becomes
a line of slightly richer earth,
feeding the next hundred years

All this unfolds complete
without witness

The forest conducting its quiet business
by principles older than eyes

Excellence maintained in the dark,
dignity in the slow return

Not once does the work pause
to wonder if anyone sees

Not once does the care diminish
for lack of audience

What falls continues,
perfect in its going