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"Keeper of Balance"Between two suns, she takes her flight,One born of shadow, one of light.Her golden wings, a whispered...
09/12/2025

"Keeper of Balance"

Between two suns, she takes her flight,
One born of shadow, one of light.
Her golden wings, a whispered song,
Of worlds divided, yet bound and strong.

Through endless skies, she weaves the thread,
Of life renewed, of dreams long dead.
A fragile bridge of breath and flame,
No day or night can stake its claim.

In every hum, a prayer is spun,
For moon and star, for earth and sun.
The dance of balance never ends,
Where darkness falls and light ascends.

And so she flies, both near and far,
A tiny herald, a cosmic star.
Reminding all who dare to see,
That harmony births eternity.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

"Whispers of the Golden Dusk" Beneath the sky of molten gold,the forest breathes, its secrets told.Within the wolf, the ...
09/12/2025

"Whispers of the Golden Dusk"

Beneath the sky of molten gold,
the forest breathes, its secrets told.
Within the wolf, the sunset gleams,
keeper of land, of ancient dreams.

His eyes reflect the fading light,
a guardian born of day and night.
When shadows rise and rivers sing,
he walks between the worlds they bring.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

The Watcher in the ShadowsIn the hush where moonlight fades,deep within the forest glades,an ancient gaze, both fierce a...
09/12/2025

The Watcher in the Shadows

In the hush where moonlight fades,
deep within the forest glades,
an ancient gaze, both fierce and wise,
burns like embers in the skies.

The river glows with golden streams,
reflecting whispers, ancient dreams.
Mountains stand, both proud and still,
guardians of the earth’s deep will.

From shadow’s edge, the owl will rise,
a silent truth in watchful eyes.
Through darkened paths, through endless night,
it guards the world till dawn’s first light.

No secret hidden, no soul alone,
beneath the trees where roots have grown.
The watcher waits, both wild and free,
keeper of the earth’s mystery.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

🙏🙏 You'll find purchase links in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me your favorite — I'll send you the direct link right away!

"Spirit Within the Trees"Beneath the veil of morning mist,A horse stands silent,its breath mingling with the forest’s si...
09/12/2025

"Spirit Within the Trees"

Beneath the veil of morning mist,
A horse stands silent,
its breath mingling with the forest’s sighs.
Its eyes — embers of ancient fires —
hold the secrets of rivers,
the echoes of mountains,
the songs of winds unbroken.

Within its dark coat,
trees rise like prayers,
rooted deep in the soil of memory,
branches reaching toward forgotten skies.
Each step it takes
awakens the heartbeat of the earth,
a rhythm older than time itself.

The spirit of the wild lives here,
not only in the beast,
but in every leaf,
every shadow,
every whisper carried by the dawn.
To see the horse is to see the forest,
and to see the forest
is to glimpse the soul of freedom.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

The Heron’s VigilUpon the painted canoe,the Heron waits—its shadow stretched across the still water,its beak pointed tow...
09/11/2025

The Heron’s Vigil

Upon the painted canoe,
the Heron waits—
its shadow stretched across the still water,
its beak pointed toward the horizon of unseen realms.

This is no ordinary boat.
Its carved eyes remember the prayers of ancestors,
its colors hold the stories of rivers,
its shape carries the breath of journeys
between the world of the living
and the land beyond the veil.

The Heron does not move,
yet it travels—
its silence is a bridge,
its feathers are whispers of the sky.
It stands as guardian,
as guide,
as witness to the soul’s crossing.

The autumn trees burn gold behind it,
reminding us that all things must turn,
all things must fade,
all things must rise again.

And in the mirror of the water,
spirit and flesh meet—
two worlds touching,
two truths reflected.

The Heron waits,
not for the end,
but for the beginning hidden within the silence.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

🙏🙏 You'll find purchase links in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me your favorite — I'll send you the direct link right away!

Voices in the MistIn the hush of the forest,where cedar trees breathe secrets into the fog,a totem rises, carved with th...
09/11/2025

Voices in the Mist

In the hush of the forest,
where cedar trees breathe secrets into the fog,
a totem rises, carved with the hands of ancestors,
its wings spread wide,
its eyes eternal flames.

Upon its crown the raven waits,
black feathers glistening with morning dew.
It whispers of shadows,
of dreams that travel between worlds,
of paths unseen yet always near.

The Thunderbird speaks in silence,
its colors etched with stories of the sky,
its beak sharp as truth,
its claws rooted in the earth.
It is thunder, it is protection,
it is the voice of generations.

Together they stand—
raven and totem, shadow and light,
guardians of balance in the endless circle.

And through the mist,
if you listen deeply,
you will hear them:
the voices of the forest,
the voices of the ancestors,
the voices that never fade.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

🙏🙏 You'll find purchase links in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me your favorite — I'll send you the direct link right away!

The Clash of Fire and IceFrom the mountains where rivers roar,beneath the sky split in flame and frost,two spirits rose—...
09/11/2025

The Clash of Fire and Ice

From the mountains where rivers roar,
beneath the sky split in flame and frost,
two spirits rose—
Wolf of the blue flame eyes,
Bear of the burning crimson gaze.

The Wolf carried silence,
the whisper of snow,
the breath of stars in the winter sky.
Its steps were light upon the water,
yet each ripple sang of clarity,
each howl promised dawn.

The Bear thundered with fire,
born of earth’s molten heart.
Its roar cracked the stones,
its paws struck like storms,
its breath a furnace,
its fury the memory of creation’s fire.

They clashed where waterfalls split,
where fire kissed the ice,
where shadow bled into light.
Neither beast was evil,
neither beast was pure—
for one guarded freedom,
and the other, raw strength.

And so the People tell:
The Wolf and the Bear do not fight to destroy,
but to remember balance.
For without fire, the world would freeze,
and without ice, the world would burn.

The river still holds their echoes,
the forest still remembers their clash,
and in every heart,
the Wolf and the Bear
still wrestle for the soul of humankind.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

🙏🙏 You'll find purchase links in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me your favorite — I'll send you the direct link right away!

"The Spirit of the Native Warrior"In this painting, a Native American warrior stands with quiet strength, a guardian of ...
09/11/2025

"The Spirit of the Native Warrior"

In this painting, a Native American warrior stands with quiet strength, a guardian of his land and traditions. His gaze is steady, filled with the wisdom of generations, reflecting a deep connection to the earth, sky, and all living beings. Every detail—the patterns on his clothing, the feathers in his hair, and the markings on his shield—speaks of a culture rich in symbolism and spiritual meaning.

The attire of Native Americans, as seen in this artwork, is more than decoration; it is a language of identity and heritage. Each feather, bead, and painted line carries a story of courage, honor, and respect for nature. These elements symbolize achievements, spiritual beliefs, and the bond between humans and the world around them.

Through this depiction, we are reminded of the reverence Native Americans hold for their ancestors, their land, and their spirits—a legacy that continues to inspire and teach us about balance, respect, and the sacredness of life.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker
🙏🙏 You’ll find the purchase link in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me the picture you love — I’ll send you the direct link right away!

"Wings of Freedom"Beneath the painted sky,where colors of earth and spirit meet,the eagle spreads its mighty wings,a sil...
09/10/2025

"Wings of Freedom"

Beneath the painted sky,
where colors of earth and spirit meet,
the eagle spreads its mighty wings,
a silent song of strength and hope.

It rises beyond the bounds of stone and soil,
carrying dreams to the highest peaks,
its shadow blessing the land below,
its cry awakening ancient memories.

Every feather tells a story,
of battles fought, of freedom claimed,
of harmony between sky and earth,
between past and tomorrow.

In its flight, we remember—
we, too, are meant to soar,
wild and unbroken,
on the eternal wings of freedom.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

The Song of the White BuffaloFrom the silence of the plains, it came—a shape of snow against the endless grass,a living ...
09/10/2025

The Song of the White Buffalo

From the silence of the plains, it came—
a shape of snow against the endless grass,
a living prayer,
a breath of the Great Spirit made flesh.

The People had waited long,
their fires dim, their hearts heavy.
But the White Buffalo returned,
its hooves striking the earth like thunder,
its breath rising as mist,
its eyes glowing with the memory of creation.

Upon its back rode the Elder,
clothed in the light of dawn,
his feathers whispering of battles and blessings,
his staff adorned with the voices of ancestors.
He did not ride as a man,
but as a messenger—
the bridge between the People and the Sky.

The White Buffalo moved,
and the grass bent in reverence.
The winds stilled,
the rivers listened,
the stars themselves leaned closer.

And the Elder spoke:
"This is not the end,
but the beginning carried in white.
The earth renews,
the circle remains unbroken,
and the People shall rise
as long as the buffalo walks the plains."

So the prophecy lived,
etched into song,
woven into drums,
painted in the sky each dawn.

And those who see the White Buffalo
are reminded:
Hope is not lost.
The Spirit still walks with us.
The circle is eternal.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

🙏🙏 You'll find purchase links in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me your favorite — I'll send you the direct link right away!

"The Spirit of the Painted Horse"Beneath the sky where the stars are born,A horse stands, its coat kissed by the dawn.Wi...
09/10/2025

"The Spirit of the Painted Horse"

Beneath the sky where the stars are born,
A horse stands, its coat kissed by the dawn.
With eyes full of wisdom, deep and true,
It carries the stories of skies and dew.

Adorned with feathers and beads that hum,
A symbol of nature, where the wild ones come.
The earth beneath its hooves, alive and strong,
A rhythm, a heartbeat, a nature’s song.

The winds whisper through its flowing mane,
Carrying tales of mountain and rain.
Its spirit, untamed, roams with the breeze,
A child of the earth, in harmony with the trees.

The circle on its face, painted with care,
A mark of protection, a connection to air.
It moves with grace, through field and glade,
A bridge between realms, where dreams are made.

This horse is not just an animal free,
But a messenger between the earth and sea.
A spirit bound to the skies above,
Carrying with it the land's quiet love.
🎨Artist and the storyteller : Elvis Becker
🙏🙏 You’ll find the purchase link in the comments below each image.
Or feel free to message me the picture you love — I’ll send you the direct link right away!

"Whispers Beneath the Moon"Beneath the moon’s eternal light,She walks the path between day and night.With raven’s shadow...
09/10/2025

"Whispers Beneath the Moon"

Beneath the moon’s eternal light,
She walks the path between day and night.
With raven’s shadow, with eagle’s flight,
She guards the flame, the ancient rite.

The eagle soars, a voice of the sky,
Carrying dreams where spirits fly.
The raven calls through realms unseen,
Keeper of secrets, dark and keen.

Her braided hair, a river’s song,
Her heart where earth and stars belong.
Between the worlds, her spirit stands,
Holding balance in her hands.

O moon above, O night divine,
Guide her soul through sacred time.
For in her gaze, the past is near,
And future speaks for all to hear.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker

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500 Redondo Drive, Apt 106
Springfield, IL
60516

Telephone

+15154744458

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