I’m not sure when I became one to dream of a locomotive heaven, or if God struck the match inside of my mind to illuminate the path I thought about traveling on yesterday. I just want to see whether or not I can blink twice and then open my eyes into a brand new state of vintage, and venture off to see all of my dreams as countries, and the people I meet as the cities in between. Take me train; steam-roll my insecurities onto the next stop to forgetfulness. Let me remember the childlike freedom expounding as vast as the scenery outside of my mind’s window. Even if the destination is clear as glass, I want to be a traveler’s traveler and get lost at how much of the map I still don’t know. I desire for knowledge to become my excuse to learn more, and regret to be my motivator to never give up. Please, take my luggage away; I wont be needing style where I’m headed. Fashioned in my Father’s footsteps I’ll be, and tailored by his enchanting everything, I already am.