Sweet, Crashing Present

Standing along the sand, let the tide roll in,
with it comes the salty smell of sweet crashing present

on these lungs, there can be no greater gift given
than that of the open and free rolling air

inhale,
each molecule burning the roots
that clutch inside your chest,
you purse your lips and let the spark of now ignite
your spirit feeling the heat of today burn you from within.

exhale,
98.6 degrees Fahrenheit body releasing
heat energy that glows a sky blue on the Kelvin scale;
sun, you ain’t got nothing on the infrared
radiation emanating from this mouth.

between the inhale and the exhale lies the crashing,
the sweet, subtle, crashing present;
a gift given and given and given and never truly received.

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