Falter Again and Again
Leaves blowing in the wind,
Men with sharp blowers
Gather all of them in
Fallen leaves gathered up
Wonder about their fate
Tales that mesmerize
As men drink with haunted eyes
Which wonder the same thing
Covering their foreign hands
Unique, yet filled with power
Hands that often falter
As do minds and hearts
Just remember vessels
stay hot
Not cold
Cracks make for beauty
As the forging breaks apart
Golden pots never honor
Despite the counterfeit world
But the genuine hands deliver
And never fade
As paint on a weathered bridge
They falter before hidden altars.