"I noticed a man that would row out with the tide to his lobster boat each morning. He was dressed in a yellow slicker with a trucker hat and black boots. The boat would putter away and check all the yellow buoys with red dots that marked his traps. After 3 hours he would return ready to sell to the lobster shack in town. Tourists would enjoy one of the tastiest treats in the world without ever knowing the experience of the fisherman. He saw a different sun every morning. Smelled different smells, heard the calls of unique waterfowl. He felt the spray of the ever changing sea. He put his hands in the frigid saltwater and retrieved the lobsters, avoiding the pinch of their claws hundreds of times a week. No one else really knew. No one else really cared. I longed to be a lobster fisherman."

"The king always had all of this in mind for us. On the Old Earth people didn’t seem to fully understand him. Even his people. Usually it was assumed the best way to honor him was in a building with just the right music playing. On the New Earth, every stone that's stepped on, every drop of water that refracts his light, each discovery around every corner leaves us in awe of the majesty of this place and of him. The more I explore, even in my short time here, the more I become aware of the king.  A king for the ages that receives praise from all the citizens of the Great Mountain. We all shout with a succession of joyful praise that cascades through gorges down the mountain and off into the endless prairie of the north.  “Forever live the king!”  Will we ever explore this entire New Earth? What’s out there?"

" Leaves on the trees of life grow to bring shade to the people. The trees bear fruit each month, but everyday they drop their leaves. The leaves are large, and a deep forest green. Each leaf is about the size of my hand, but together they canopy the main streets of the city. When evening arrives the leaves change to autumn colors. On the hour they move from red, to orange, to yellow, and then they plummet to the ground in the twilight of the golden hour. The twilight is ushered in each evening as a result of the king leaving his throne to mingle among the people. The earth is still lit, but with a softer glow.  Ladies in beautiful dresses carry big baskets to collect the bounty. Men grind the leaves into a pesto with Mediterranean style mortar and pestle. Sometimes we add other spices and oils for different recipes. We haven’t been on this New Earth that long, we are still experimenting with tastes and ingredients. Whatever form the leaves take they always sustain us. They bring healing. From the king, to the river, to the trees, to the leaves, to the people. There is a hope, an expectation, that this cycle will continue forever."