𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩
An engorged bud drifts through the vast emptiness, floating without aim until it swells to the very edge of bursting. When the pressure is finally too much to bear, it splits in an explosion of stone and leaf, water, and wind. The landscape unfurls into a plane of bountiful life. Rock and root alike drive forth of their own power, finally free of the encasement.
In cosmic ice, an entire reality is born. It does not struggle in the cold emptiness, nor does it fight a futile struggle against an entropic end. It has not come to survive, but to thrive.