For how long has the sky inspired us? When did our ancient ancestors first look up and wonder? Was that when he and she first stood the stones up to mark their passage? Or earlier still? If the stars have guided us, inspired, and confounded us, why do we fill the night with our garish neon lights? Do we aspire to fill the dark with promise, as imitation of them? For no matter how dark our nights become, we will always know that we only need to look up, and there will always be A Sky Full of Promise ---------------- I hadn't meant to do a dedication to Valerie Ducom, as so many others have already said what I felt when I learned. But after this just seemed to flow this evening, I decided it must be for her, as she has inspired so many of us. For you, Valerie, wherever the inspiration has taken you.