In the shadow of the high-rises
The sea is steadily rising
And will soon be at the door.
At the same time
My hopes are at their lowest ebb.
I would be a survivor
But I am beginning to question
What survival means.
Even though I am healthy
Our planet is not
So, how can I, who am of my beloved planet,
Say I am healthy?
That, right there, is my bottom line.
I know there are men
Who think the sand can be replaced by money
But what is happening to this beach
Is way beyond repair.
My highest thoughts are like a light house.
The keeper of
The light of my thoughts
Polishes the crystal
That sweeps the stormy seas for answers,
But there are no answers
For the sea itself is troubled.
