Just in Case

Get on the train.

I know the pain. I know.
No promise of arrival, though.
No vision of the view.
Just movement

Just in case.

Wash the cup.
Stack the plate.
The world doesn't end
because your hands
remember faith.

Write the line.
Not the masterpiece—
the one that breathes.
Leave it on the table
as a spark that breeds.

Run until the body speaks louder
and thoughts build to heaven like a holy tower
Read until someone else's words give you power
and hold the weight for you
while your heart opens like a flower.

Stay because rooms change.
Because mornings remember nights' pain.
Because one day you will look back
with grace
at all you overcame.

Get on the train.

Even trembling.
Even empty and in pain.
Especially then.

Just in case.

Just in case

rise, even when the day
doesn't call you by name.
when nothing seems to change,

and you feel the same
as every other day.

Tie the lace.
Take the latter.
Don't believe that small rites don't matter.
the shortest of lines have made hearts shatter.

When the road is ash
and the map has burned the hereafter
step anyway—
paths remember tread
and are made by walking instead.

Read the dead
who learned to life instead.

Break the bread. Salt the water.
Agreements are older
than despair's daughter.

Order is a spell
the tired can still cast.
A gate one can still pass.

Write one line.
Not for glory.
For keeping time.

For keeping story.

There will come a morning
that does not know this night.
It will thank you
for the mercy of delay.

So play,

and board the train.

Even hollow.
Even afraid.

Especially then.

Live as if it matters.

Just in case.

When the will goes dark
and the gods go quiet,

do not mistake it for defiance.

This is nothing but the turning of art into science,
do not ask for meaning or compliance.
Ask for morning unafraid of silence.

If the head says no,
let the hands say yes.
Hands know things
the mind forgets.

Sing,

even broken.

Especially then.

The first songs
were sung in the dark.

And now there's dancing in the park

Do not swear allegiance
to this hour.

Hours pass
like bad kings.

When the fire thins
and the night grows teeth,
do not curse the dark.
Feed what's left.

See what's freed.

Set one thing right.
A chair. A thought. An untouched light.
The world is stitched
from such repairs.

And if you dare,

If hope will not speak,
listen for habit, hope
that learned to survive.

The last thing keeping alive.

Write, not to be known,
but to be found
by yourself
at another time.

One simple rhyme.

Walk. The ground
still wants you.
It has held worse storms
than this.

Live as if
the reckoning is kind.
As if redemption was the Excalibur to find.
And so is Grace

Just in case.

When the weight returns
before the light does,
do not argue.

Rest with the bones.

Sit beside it
like an old animal
that followed you home.

The ancients counted breaths
when gods would not answer
and found their path back to Rome.

Write the thing
that does not explain itself.

Do not ask
if you are worthy.

Ask only
If you are holy.

If you are still here.

Being
is the older vow.

It answers The question.

Night teaches endurance.
Morning teaches mercy.
Neither asks permission.

There will be yet laughter
you cannot imagine.
In the second edition.

It will surprise you
by being yours.

So stay close to the ordinary.
It is the oldest magic.
The cup. The page. The base.

Live as if.

Just in case.

Leave the lamp on
just in case.

Fold the grief neatly,
not away—
where you can reach it
without bleeding.

Answer the day
with the smallest yes, without deceiving.

Get dressed
as if the body might be needed later.
It often is.

Step outside.
The air is older than your thoughts
and disagrees.

Say the words
even if they sound borrowed, hollow.

Language carries us
when we can't carry meaning.

Do the work
that asks not who you are.

Work steadies the hands.
Hands steady the heart.

Do not finish the story
on a bad page.

Books survive chapters
that nearly broke them.

Keep your post,
motion, repetition, return.
This is how tides heal coasts.

Stay curious
about who you might be
after the storms have passed.
You have not met her/him.

Get on the train.
Just in case.

If the heart rattles,
let it beat.

Drums sounded
before words,

before defeat.

You are not late.
You are not broken.

You are arriving
to a life still forming.

So tremble.
Stay upright.

Let the body speak
what courage sounds like
before it learns the word.

Show up again tomorrow.

Just in case.

— RR