Railway to Heaven

"Railway to Heaven"
is not a painting of a church and rails.
This is a painting of return.

Look at how the rails meet —
two directions, two fates, two lives,
finally finding a shared path.
The path leads to the temple,
and the temple here is not just a building.
It is home.
It is mother.
It is the last harbor of the soul,
when the noise of this world finally quiets.

The rails are firm, rough, iron —
like a life that often crushes us.
Yet they lead confidently forward,
without twists, without hesitation.
Straight to a light,
both distant and near.

The church stands patient, grand, motionless.
It does not come to us — we must go to it.
But the path is given.
The path is made.
The path is clear.

This is a painting for the one who has grown weary of wandering.
For the one who has endured factories, barracks, stations, separations,
and now returns to the silence of the sacred.

The iron railway to heaven.
Unfeeling, precise, strict —
yet sure.

And perhaps most importantly:
Here there is no train.
No motion.
No rush.

This is the moment when we have already arrived.
When we stand before the gates.
All that remains is to step forward.

Lia