The Village “Elder” Man
Lenore Murray 2013
He stood as one with the land
A tall and stately silhouette against
the Congo sky
Motionless and majestic he took his
stand
Still- he stands-only penetrating eye
movements
Alone he stands and no one dares
speak
His heart sees the land as it was
long ago
His eyes see the land as it is today
His gnarled hands grip his spear and
his shield
Held with the tribal pride of long
ago
He alone is hearing things
The sounds of the plains and the
jungles near by
The sound of birds in flight and a
moth when it lights
The sounds of generational tribal
lore playing in his mind
Then as sudden as an African sun set,
he is no more
Leaving quietly as a feather or a
falling flambeau flower
The people never hear or see him go
He passes through his beloved land
and leaves not a sign
As the night descends there is no
proof he was ever there
But as the night’s shadows ebb, he’s
back to stand sentinel
To guard the memories of his people
so dear
The Village Elder Man
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