The phoenix must be burned before it can begin again. It must erupt into flame, dissolve into ash, pool upon the ground and brave the winds that scatter, before it can find its wings once more. We too, must endure the burning to become what we were meant to be, before we can fly again.
This time feels like we're at the airport doesn't it? We've been through quite a time and more's to come. And yet, here we are. There is a horizon, there is a rainbow, there are still signs of life.