The waters have risen
The flowers have bloomed
And yet we still sit here
Forever entombed

They dance with such grace
Dance swiftly on air
A spin, courtsey, twirl
Infinitly, without a care

She is our Mother Ocean
She is our Mother Earth
We bake upon her oven
Warm ourselves by her hearth

But shall we still forsake her?
Do we really care?
Or are we still here, still unknowing
But to really "know" is rare.