That Promise 
Byron Hoot
 
In the light of what may come dawn
arrives in its sliver separating day
from night.  Beyond its promise
it keeps everyday nothing more
is given regarding how the day unfurls.
 
I awake with no such promise.
It is hard to know what it means to say
“I am that I am.”   Though I utter it
daily in a hundred different ways,
sometimes true, sometimes false,
 
sometimes just confused.  If we
are part of Nature in the broadest,
most narrow way, then why does such
a promise as dawn not break
in us every day?
 
I keep hoping for that constant sliver
of such a nonchalant promise given
and constantly kept to break from
me in such daily beauty.  It’s not
too much to ask to have a promise
that can be kept a lifetime.