Breathe in, breathe out, create, consume, destroy

I am the shore
who breathes beneath the waves:
breathe in, the water back into itself,
inhale the morning air, its temperature,
its harbingers of storm, or calm, to come;
breathe out, the water tumbles to the shore,
exhale to lift the seagull's wings
and set the dune grass waving.

I am the couple watching
on a blanket by the shore;
she inhales, breathing in his scent,
his moods, the story of the week that's passed;
he exhales, breathing out decisions,
actions; driving ideas home.

I am the book,
face up, and open on the blanket.
Read me: inhale,  breathe in the words
that elevate the seagull's wings
and flutter in the salt sea spray,
and write: breathe out what you have learned;
set the words, the echoes of events, upon the page.
Bind them into truth, and set them on
the altar of understanding,
a sacrifice of love to be shared
with all who yearn to
Breathe,
and be the sea,
now still,
no breath to mar its surface,
calmly mirroring the gulls, the grass,
the blanket, and the one who sleeps,
his arm above his eyes to shield the light;
the one who weeps on a nearby log,
adding her own salt spray to the shore below,
the book, now closed, its cover damp
and blistering in the sun.