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Whispers of the Lakota HorseFrom the heart of the Lakota plains,a horse rises like dawn,its mane woven with windsthat on...
10/31/2025

Whispers of the Lakota Horse

From the heart of the Lakota plains,
a horse rises like dawn,
its mane woven with winds
that once carried warriors to battle.

Mountains bloom within its spirit,
stone and snow becoming flesh,
echoing the heartbeat of the earth,
steady, unbroken, eternal.

Its eyes hold the stories of the tribe,
of dances beneath the moon,
of prayers cast into the river,
of fires that never die.

Each breath is a song,
each step a promise—
to protect the land,
to honor the ancestors,
to remember the sacred bond.

The elders say,
“Do not just see the horse,
listen.
For within its silence
is the voice of the Great Spirit,
guiding us home.”
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

The Drum of the Cedar ForestBeneath the crimson sun,the mountains stand like ancient guardians,their snowy peaks whisper...
10/31/2025

The Drum of the Cedar Forest

Beneath the crimson sun,
the mountains stand like ancient guardians,
their snowy peaks whispering
to the spirits of the wind.

The Coast Salish totem rises tall,
painted faces of ancestors glowing in the dusk,
telling stories of birth, battle,
and the eternal dance of life.

A woodpecker beats its hollow tree—
drum, drum, drum—
its rhythm echoing through the forest,
calling the tribe back to the firelight,
to the circle where cedar smoke curls like prayers.

Two young ones watch from the nest,
eyes wide,
hearts trembling with the promise of flight.
They do not yet know
that the forest carries their names,
that their wings are woven
into the fabric of the sky.

The river winds below,
silver threads weaving through pine and stone,
singing of salmon,
of journeys made and lost,
of a people bound to the water's breath.

When night comes,
stars scatter like embers,
and the woodpecker’s song grows fierce—
a promise to protect,
to endure.

And the tribe listens,
knowing the forest speaks
through feathers, through drums,
through the fire
that never dies.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

"The Raven’s Whisper – A Song of Wisdom and Resilience"In this painting, a proud Native warrior stands tall, his gaze li...
10/31/2025

"The Raven’s Whisper – A Song of Wisdom and Resilience"

In this painting, a proud Native warrior stands tall, his gaze lifted toward the horizon, embodying both strength and contemplation. Perched atop his head is a black raven, a creature steeped in myth and symbolism across many Native American tribes, particularly the Haida, Lakota Sioux, and Cherokee. The raven is not merely a bird here; it is a spiritual guide, a messenger between the earthly world and the realm of the spirits.

The warrior’s body is adorned with war paint of red and gold, colors chosen with deep spiritual intention. Red represents life, protection, and the blood of his ancestors, while gold symbolizes the sun, enlightenment, and divine guidance. His chest bears circular markings, reflecting the sacred circle of life, a fundamental belief in Native culture that all living things are interconnected in a continuous cycle of birth, death, and renewal. The feather earring and strands of beads hanging around his neck speak to his connection to tradition, each element telling a silent story of heritage and honor.

The raven, sitting calmly, whispers unseen truths. In many legends, the raven is a trickster, a teacher, and sometimes a bearer of prophecy. It challenges warriors and leaders to confront both light and shadow within themselves. Its presence suggests that this warrior is not only a protector of his people but also a seeker of wisdom, someone who listens to the messages of the natural world.

The stark, textured background symbolizes a world stripped to its essence, placing all focus on the relationship between man and spirit. The warrior’s upward gaze reflects hope, resilience, and vision for the future, even amidst trials.

This painting captures a powerful narrative: the harmony between human strength and spiritual guidance. It reminds us that true leadership is not just about physical might but also about listening — to ancestors, to nature, and to the quiet wisdom carried on a raven’s wing.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

The Sacred Buffalo of the PlainsBeneath the wide and endless sky,Where prairie winds in freedom sigh,The buffalo walks, ...
10/30/2025

The Sacred Buffalo of the Plains

Beneath the wide and endless sky,
Where prairie winds in freedom sigh,
The buffalo walks, a living prayer,
A spirit born from earth and air.

With mighty hooves it shakes the ground,
Where tribal drums and hearts resound,
A gift of life, a holy guide,
The Lakota sing by the fireside.

"Great Buffalo, keeper of grain,
Protector through drought, through storm, through pain.
Your breath is mist, your soul is flame,
We honor you, we speak your name."

In ancient times, when the plains were new,
The White Buffalo Woman came into view.
She carried a pipe, a sacred song,
Teaching the people where they belong.

The designs upon its noble hide,
Are stories of ancestors, stars as guide.
Sun and moon, the circle of kin,
Life’s great journey etched within.

The buffalo feeds, the buffalo gives,
Through every cycle, the people live.
Its flesh, its bone, its sacred horn,
The tribe renewed, the tribe reborn.

But whispers rise on the western breeze,
Of broken treaties, of fallowed trees.
The buffalo cries, the people pray,
To keep the spirit from fading away.

Still, in the night beneath the flame,
The elders gather and speak its name:
"Mitákuye Oyás’iŋ" — all are one,
Beneath the stars, beneath the sun.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

Song of the Sacred BeeGolden wings beneath the sun,A tiny spirit, yet mighty one.Through forests deep and meadows wide,I...
10/30/2025

Song of the Sacred Bee

Golden wings beneath the sun,
A tiny spirit, yet mighty one.
Through forests deep and meadows wide,
It hums the song where worlds collide.

Builder of dreams, bearer of light,
Guardian of blooms through day and night.
Oh sacred bee, your buzzing call,
Unites the earth, unites us all.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

She Who Dances with StarsHer robe is a river of night,woven with blossoms and golden threads,a garment stitched from mem...
10/30/2025

She Who Dances with Stars

Her robe is a river of night,
woven with blossoms and golden threads,
a garment stitched from memory
and the breath of countless dawns.

She lifts her hand toward the sky,
where stars spill like seeds of fire,
each one a whisper of ancestors,
each one a promise not forgotten.

Her hair flows like midnight rivers,
her body bends with the wind’s song—
and in her dance,
the earth itself remembers
how to breathe,
how to bloom,
how to dream again.

She is not only woman,
but prayer made flesh,
a living flame beneath the heavens,
forever twined with light.

And when she moves,
the stars lean closer,
the sky opens wider—
for she is the bridge
between what was
and what is yet to be.

"Song of the Hawk"Upon the cliffs where wild winds roam,The hawk takes flight, its heart the home.Eyes of fire, sharp an...
10/29/2025

"Song of the Hawk"

Upon the cliffs where wild winds roam,
The hawk takes flight, its heart the home.
Eyes of fire, sharp and clear,
Guardian of skies, the land holds dear.

It rides the sun, it tastes the rain,
It soars through joy, it dives through pain.
Messenger of the earth and sky,
A spirit born to never die.

The forests whisper, the rivers sing,
Of freedom carried on feathered wing.
Oh, noble hawk, so fierce, so free,
A symbol of strength for all to see.

Through endless skies, it charts its way,
Guiding hearts to a brighter day.
Nature’s voice, both wild and true,
Lives in the hawk—and speaks to you.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

"War Paint of the Plains – The Spirit of a Warrior"In the heart of the Great Plains, a warrior stands adorned in sacred ...
10/29/2025

"War Paint of the Plains – The Spirit of a Warrior"

In the heart of the Great Plains, a warrior stands adorned in sacred war paint and a majestic eagle-feather headdress. The striking red and white markings on his face tell a story beyond words — red for life, courage, and the blood of his people, white for spirit and the eternal connection to his ancestors.

For tribes like the Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne, war paint was more than a symbol of battle; it was a spiritual shield. Each stroke carried prayers to the Great Spirit, calling for protection and strength. The eagle feathers, earned through acts of bravery, crowned only the most honored leaders and warriors.

This painting captures not just a warrior, but a living embodiment of tradition, sacrifice, and pride. It speaks of a time when every battle was fought not only with weapons, but with faith, unity, and the deep heartbeat of the land itself.

"The Spirit of the Plains – A Warrior’s Horse"Across the golden plains, a magnificent horse gallops freely, its mane flo...
10/29/2025

"The Spirit of the Plains – A Warrior’s Horse"

Across the golden plains, a magnificent horse gallops freely, its mane flowing like the wind. Adorned with turquoise ornaments and a majestic feathered headdress, this horse is more than just an animal—it is a warrior’s companion, a symbol of strength, freedom, and sacred connection.

For the Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne tribes, horses were a gift from the Great Spirit. They transformed life on the plains, allowing warriors to hunt buffalo, travel vast distances, and protect their people. A horse decorated with such care was often considered a spiritual being, honored in songs, dances, and ceremonies.

The vibrant turquoise represents protection and harmony, while the feathers speak of bravery and the blessings of the sky. As it runs across the open land, this horse carries the spirit of its rider and the dreams of the tribe.

This painting is a tribute to a time when humans and animals lived in deep unity with nature, and when the beating of hooves echoed the heartbeat of the earth itself.

The White Owl’s SongUpon the night, so still, so deep,The White Owl guards while others sleep.With feathers crowned and ...
10/28/2025

The White Owl’s Song
Upon the night, so still, so deep,
The White Owl guards while others sleep.
With feathers crowned and eyes of flame,
It whispers truths none else can name.
Its voice is wisdom, old and clear,
A guide for hearts to walk with cheer.
It teaches, “Listen, learn, and see,
The earth is one, and so are we.”
Through forest dark and mountain high,
The White Owl’s spirit will not die.
It carries prayers on feathered flight,
A sacred torch within the night.

"The Eagle’s Flight – Messenger of the Great Spirit"High above the misty mountains, an eagle soars with wings wide open,...
10/28/2025

"The Eagle’s Flight – Messenger of the Great Spirit"

High above the misty mountains, an eagle soars with wings wide open, carrying a sacred dreamcatcher beneath its talons. In many Native American traditions, especially among the Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne, the eagle is a messenger of the Great Spirit, a bridge between the earth and the heavens. Its sharp eyes see beyond the physical world, guiding the people with wisdom and courage.

The dreamcatcher symbolizes protection and hope. It captures dark spirits and nightmares, allowing only good dreams and visions to pass through. When carried by the eagle, it represents prayers rising to the sky, purified and blessed by the Great Spirit.

This painting speaks of harmony and connection. It reminds us that freedom is not just the ability to fly high, but also the responsibility to protect the earth and all living beings. Just as the eagle watches over the land, so too must we honor our roots, our dreams, and the sacred balance of life.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

The Voice of the AncestorsIn the silence of a blood-red dawn, she stood with her face painted by the mark of the ancesto...
10/28/2025

The Voice of the Ancestors

In the silence of a blood-red dawn, she stood with her face painted by the mark of the ancestors. The red hand across her mouth was not just a symbol of silence—it was the voice of generations crying out for justice. Behind her, she could feel the weight of the women who came before, mothers and daughters whose names had been carried away by the winds, yet whose spirits still walked beside her.

Her braids fell heavy on her shoulders, like threads binding her to the long line of grandmothers who had prayed under the same sun and wept under the same moon. The necklaces across her chest were not ornaments, but shields woven with memory, each bead carrying the strength of those who endured. She knew she was not standing alone; the earth beneath her feet held the stories of her people, and the sky above carried the whispers of the elders.

When she lifted her eyes, she did not speak, for her ancestors spoke through her silence. Her presence became a fire, unextinguished by centuries of sorrow. And in that fire was a promise: that the ancestors would never be forgotten, and that their children would keep walking forward until the words carved above her—“And Justice for All”—were no longer a dream, but a truth.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker

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60516

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