Consider then a blade of grass:
it dries up in the summer
when it’s hot and there’s no rain

It might spend it’s entire forlorn life
up there on the side of a mountain
surrounded by all of it’s
equally dried out friends;
giving comfort to no human feet
and that of very few animals

But, let the storms come
and the same blade of grass
drinks in the rain ecstatically
and grows green in solar-powered regnancy

So maybe
like the blade of grass
our troubles
can fuel our rebirth