Rooted

Life’s gloom obscures the sturdiest foundations

where sunlight scrabbles seeking purchase.

They continue lurking when shaken free from their bonds;

coursing while firmly planted with the world borne on stout shoulders.

Humble soldiers march further into the depths than any other dares,

armed with sharpened spear to discretely pierce the earthen sheath.

They stretch so far to tap into reservoirs hidden from the surface,

mucking out a living behind the curtain where all else met its end.

They gleefully raze the fields of decay

to feed immature beauty firmly clapped in tight bud.

That vibrant colour’s emergence from sullen slumber

bolsters the loyal servant’s timeless endeavor of holding it all together

for an unforgettable display in a foreign kingdom.

A concrete jungle where life blooms.