My Place in the Woods

Spider webs glisten in Autumn sunlight;
Diana tears.
A small waterfalls sings
a symphony of gentle trickles and sprays.
A cool breeze kisses my face.
Stone slabs that are green with moss and
ripples of light that move across water surface;
Reflections on time distorted.
At this place an altar has fallen to the ground;
Returned to the Earth of which it was made.
A small child -- shadow of my former self -- and I sit side by side
as the Sun slips to night behind a nearby hill.

-- TE Pruitt

The following was written in my sketchbook on November 19, 1995 while sitting in a favorite place in the woods near where I spent a good portion of my childhood. Reading these words takes me back to that place where I can smell the air and see the light.

Watching for Wapiti

The process of discovery is an exciting experience. I sit here within my sacred (Wicca) Circle in the coastal scrub of Northern Washington State seemingly alone, but I know from the many signs and sensations that I am not alone; The elk are all around me! It's hard to see them even when they are close because they are so good at blending into the brush. I can smell them when the wind blows. I've walked along their paths that lead to spots where they have lain to rest. Occasionally I find their droppings, and far off their calls can be heard. Nearby I feel eyes upon me. The young aspen blowing leaves in the wind seem to speak warnings to me as if the elk were a threat to me as well as to the tender sprouting leaves. Perhaps it is so; I must take care for these magnificent creatures are quite large! I am in their space and I give them due respect. I go off now to observe and search for further signs of the Roosevelt Wapiti.

( Written in Washington State about the year 2000, exact date unknown. Many wild animals had moved into lower altitude areas due to dry weather conditions. My encounters with the elk grew closer. I continued in joy for some time to make detailed observations of a small herd of female elk hiding right behind the houses of avid hunters in town until the herd was chased away by what can only be described as Bigfoot or Sasquatch having entering the area.)


Copyright TE Pruitt, Tree Pruitt. For profit use is prohibited. *If you share the words then please credit the author too.

In the Stream

Crackled leaves and faded dreams,
Both cries of pain and joyous screams,
Quiet moments spent lost in thought;
My sorrows poured and you flowed them away through giggling pools without a care.
I watched them drift around your bend before I returned to hiking the nearby trail.
As a child I played upon your slick ancient stone in wonder.
As grown I ponder on them still in quiet moments now rare;
Bubbling laughter and springtime roars of song.
Even now my dreams come and go with you... everything flowing.

-- TE Pruitt

The above was written in a sketchbook on November 19, 1995 while sitting in a favorite place in the woods near where I spent a good portion of my childhood, working through adolescent angst and joyously exploring my world. This is a small raw poem about letting go of sorrow to enjoy the moment as it exists.