Spirit of Elders

In the visage of the elder, a tale unfolds, Of wisdom, strength, and stories untold. The feathers on his head, a symbol of might, A guardian of traditions, in the silent night. His face, a map of time, etched with lines of age, A testament to journeys, across this sacred stage. The paint on his cheek, a mark of his pride, A connection to the earth, where his ancestors reside. The earrings that dangle, a rhythm to his soul, Echoes of a culture, that makes him whole. In his eyes, a deep knowing, a history so grand, A keeper of the stories, of this mystic land. He stands as a sentinel, between worlds so fine, A bridge to the past, where wisdom is divine. His presence is a reminder, of the beauty that's real, A spirit that roams free, with a heart that feels.