Hold Fast

Beyond the veil of black and concrete ground, there stand two spring trees
undaunted by the wind of storm who rage to snap their frame
they stand in uniform solitude, isolate and concerted, sequestered and confederated.
Darkness withdrawing from their roots in fear, their shadows glow further and further from the veil.
Somber murky bark of black, made luminous along their trunks.
Concrete splinters and light echoes around.
The storm a nightmare come to pass, and new leave whittle through their worn branches.
A beacon and a symbol to all who need it. Their message clear.
Hold Fast.