Sometimes the first candle doesn’t light.
The wax has built up over the wick, depriving it of oxygen.
Sometimes the first shot misses the target.
The mark was in view but the shooter unskilled or confused.
Sometimes what was thought to be, isn’t.
The data extinguishes the belief, the belief revealed as insecurity.
Sometimes in a crowd of many, one can’t be.
The ignition of the others is the darkness of the one.
Sometimes we force it.
The force is met with opposition and pressure.
Sometimes what is needed most is to not be needed at all.
The expectation of the other crushes the will of the self.
Sometimes forgiveness comes before a fall and sin before elation.
The grace of the moment is the judgement of all.
Sometimes the practice kills the performance.
The masks of shame and guilt removed.
Sometimes justification comes by death.
The loss of that which was held as essential, viewed as sacred.
Sometimes the clouds part to reveal an empty sky.
The security of knowledge is the sin of the certain.
Sometimes authenticity is found in a lie.
The truth is the enemy of the deceived soul.
Sometimes the need is met with the void.
The contemplation of deprivation creates the abundance.
Sometimes the first candle doesn’t light.
An effort wasted,
A bitterness tasted.
But there hope lies, just to the right.
GinAndJesus 