On those days

On those days
where everything is lost
where no bird comes to the window
where I am not sitting on a volcano
where the wind is not with me,

On those mornings
where I am sitting in a hole
in the ground unable even
to contemplate contemplating my navel,

On those nights
where the dark and empty of the world
can hardly summon the necessary
to whisper an echoed song of loss
to a dark and empty soul,

Then
I can do well to remember
that a falling tide
flows all the way out
to the horizon
twice in every day
and twice in every day
a rising tide flows
all the way back to the shore.