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.