Worth?

When a flower blooms in a remote corner, and no one ever sees it, is its life in vain? When a lone bird sings in a distant forest, and no one hears the song, is it in vain? When it rains in the desert where there is nothing to grow, is it in vain?

Do the flowers bloom, birds sing, and clouds rain always with purpose? If not do our lives must have purpose?

What worth is that life that has never shed tears for a stranger? What worth is that life that has never found a cause for which it made sense to dedicate the self? What worth is that life that has never found that love for which it’s worth giving up all?