dinner at 8

I’m on holiday from my previous life. And scaling the Riviera of opportunities will only garner more exhilaration. The faces, places, the window and progression of this particular world are all that I imagined them to be. Dinner at 8. Mint tea in the morning. White wine with colleagues. This life is divine.

I’m in worship with my present life. And crossing the River in faith will only garner a firmer foundation. The priests are on the forefront singing as I, and my counterparts, step on the soft sand. I won’t be dismayed. I won’t be discouraged. And I won’t be left behind. I hear the trumpet’s shout on the opposite side of the outer city wall. This life is Divine.