Tutuwas

by Joseph Bruchac

I know the names
on this land
have been changed,
printed on maps
made by those
who claim their ownership.

Some say nothing survives.

But the wind
still sings
the same song
of our breath.

The hilltop trees
still bend like dancers
in ceremonies
that never ended.

And the little pines,
tutuwas, tutuwas,
lift up, protected
from the weight of snow
by the held-out arms
of their elders.

Reprinted with permission.

Read Joseph Bruchac’s newest collection of poetry, Four Directions, available for purchase online.

One can almost hear the song of a rustling wind passing through tree branches in the word, “Tutuwas,” which the poet uses here. Tracing the etymology of this evocative term, Joseph Bruchac writes that “Tutuwas” carries “more than one connotation. It’s the name of a song that’s also called ‘Little Pines,’ which can be heard in all our various Wabanaki nations throughout New England, from Vermont to the Canadian Maritimes, Western Abenaki, Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, Malecite, and Miq’mac.  It’s usually sung by children and danced by their mothers.  The words ask the dancers to  move toward each of the four directions, and spin around. The title ‘Tutuwas’ refers to both little babies and the small pine trees that are protected by the outstretched arms of their elders.” By employing a word that can be applied to the young of both humans and trees, Bruchac reminds us that we too are elements of the natural world, and his poem assures us that “the wind/still sings/the same song/of our breath.” He implies that we are all still tied to this land, and if we take the time to pay deeper attention, we can sense the timelessness of nature, even in winter, under “the weight of snow.” Maybe we can also learn to embrace the knowledge and languages of the first people to inhabit this place and, like the “tutuwas” in the poem, can come to feel protected “by the held-out arms” of elders rooted here long before us.

Invitation for Writing & Reflection: What elements of the natural world, especially in the dormancy of winter, allow you to embrace the timelessness of this land that once belonged to others? How might you honor the elders who came before you, mapping and naming the land you inhabit?

Photograph by Trish Miller

ABOUT THE POET: Joseph Bruchac

Joseph Bruchac, a tribally enrolled member of the Nulhegan Abenaki Nation, is a writer, traditional storyteller, and musician. Author of over 170 books in several genres, his work often reflects his Native heritage. His most recent book of poetry, Four Directions: New and Recollected Poems was published by Mongrel Empire Press in 2015.

POETRY SELECTION AND COMMENTARY BY JAMES CREWS

James Crews is the author of four collections of poetry: The Book of What Stays, Telling My Father, Bluebird, and Every Waking Moment. He is also the editor of two anthologies: Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection and How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. His poems have appeared in Ploughshares, The New Republic, The New York Times Magazine, The Sun, and have been reprinted in Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry and featured on Tracy K. Smith’s podcast, The Slowdown. James teaches at SUNY-Albany and lives with his husband in Vermont.

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