The lines upon his face told a story struggle, wisdom,
his voice told tales, realities, vision.
The tired worn eyes told of pain, of love.
He tossed his spirit into the clouds,
and spread the shadow over the land,
he held the strength of the eagle in flight upon his aging hand.
His strength represented in each feather,
many moons have drifted by,
he opens his arms to embrace the night,
a tear falls from his eye.
His love remembers, such beauty,
the wildest of horses could never tame
clouds fall softly in kisses
the wind, she whispers his name.
Soon he will will hold her closely once again,
his arms strong picking her up, a soft kiss upon her face
meeting once again upon the mountainside,
watching the colors drifting upward from the waterfalls,
in love, as life, this special place.
Great illustration April and a vividly descriptive poem! Awesome work as always!!!
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