The Traveling Coin Jar

Coins.
Each with its own story.
They don’t shine like the sun or sparkle like the moon.
They glow with warmth like times I long to relive;
For me and me only.

Wherever I travel across the globe,
They will be there.
Mesmerising to the eye.
Many risk their freedom, just to grasp them in their hands,
Yet I keep mine locked away, protected, untouched.

As I stare through the mystical glass,
The outside world becomes oblivious.
My mind overridden with past adventures,
Transported to the beginning of each tale.
My keepsake from another land.

Some see a glass jar near empty,
But to me it’s an opportunity,
An opportunity not yet filled,
Yet will be
As the jar fills with time and change.