Promises

are best remembered by the promisee when all the dust is cleared away, when sparks of irony will flee the anvil, as the hammer blows come down upon a glowing blob of hope. Although, the price may be too high, the words too dear to justify a reach, a frantic grasp, or quell a nagging fear that all the world is watching as the enemy stalks quietly outside the gate. Not in the galaxy nor in the petal of a flower, may anyone presume to hold one fleeting facet of the truth. Not in the sweep of time or unimagined space may be contained its substance. And when the oath of loyalty is heard, and words seem hollow, and absurd, the citizen may smile and shake his head: No, his promises are best enshrined upon an open plain where one must shout into the hurricane and no one else may hear--then vanishing into a gloriole of peace. ~