Wise with the wisdom of many years beyond men,
Wisdom gained in living
What is now scarce remembered.
Steward of Middle Earth, tirelessly he rides,
Watches and listens with purposeful intent,
As a tracker who seeks out the faintest of paths,
Bringing prophecy into being.
His eyes twinkle with merriment, blaze with wrath,
Silently gleam, reflecting his thoughts;
Always aware, seeing more than is there.
Aged hands gripping with the strength of youth,
Aged body fighting with vibrance and power:
Outside of time yet a part of its weaving.

He never stands idle,
Nor moves without purpose.
Taking a skein of time into his hands,
He weaves and entwines it,
Turning its substance to his advantage.
Knowledge and skill are both his to command.
Choosing a path according to the need,
He forges ahead, undeterred by the danger
For years beyond count
Or memory
He has done so.
Master of horses, Ally of eagles,
Bearer of the fire that burns pure and clear.
Lover of peace undaunted by warfare,
History and lore in depth surround him
Like a grey cloak for his glory,
Holding him to this world,
Helping him on his way,
Keeping him to his purpose;
His time to fulfill.

- Primula