Water poured from cup to cup, and metal turned to gold
Sorrow turned to patience, and ego turned to mold.
One foot on the water, another balancing on land
Not a drop is spilt by the angel's gentle hand.
Caution guards the recipe, stirring grace with balance
Art and time make alchemy with these select ingredients.
Change forged of disappointment, mingling with hope
Built on tragic lessons learned that gave us skill to cope.
Expectation and assumption gone, accepting what will be
Still the angel blends the cups, creating perfectly.
Perfect are the cups' contents, and perfect is the measure
And perfect are the woes and joys, blended into treasure.