The rippling of water

It is odious, he thought, to awaken this way.
A morning is rebirth
and should come with refreshed joy,
not the weight of yesterday.
Tired, bone tired, his heart still heavy
with the sadness that comes from understanding
that but for one,
he had finally found a place he loved and could call home.
 
It would be well, he thought, to let this one be.
To choose his own happiness, his own way.
Yet this one seeks him out wherever he may go,
darkening any joy he might find here,
among these people, these places.
To be left alone was not enough, he would have to hide
and that is not his nature.
To be less than made more painful
by choosing to be less than.
 
If anyone else cared enough to move this ill on,
to stand against the history for a better way,
that would be all that is required.
But no one else cares enough to stand.
Better to remain silent than be noticed and risk.
So another leaves, another comes,
the water rippled for a moment,
then again it is as if nothing happened.
Its all good.
 
Until one becomes a majority
greater than this one who is a majority
this place remains dimly lit. Nothing will grow here.
Everyone becomes used to living in silence
watching the others fall,
the water ripple,
and things remaining the same.
 
Why is it always this way?

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A man illuminated

The passage of light was softened by the distance from the windows high above in the arched way to the cathedral floor below, dusty and ancient. His footsteps echoed in muffled cadence with his thoughts, flickers of sadness edged with anger and anxiousness. He paused, taking in the moment, framed in the scintillating glow of the colored shards of glass between thin edges of lead. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face penetrating him. Looking up, he closed his eyes. His thoughts went from this place, to that place, far and distant in time, in travel. His thoughts went to the coast, where the trader's ranged within sight of land, where he once stood on the deck of his frigate, the sounds of sails snapping, men working rope, a ship making way, and breathed the clean fresh air of the sea, the sun warming his face against the sea breeze. For a moment he was no longer here, where he was commanded, but there, where he commanded, where his fate was his alone, among men he knew and trusted. He opened his eyes and stared into the window that illuminated him, his patch of the world at this moment, then lowering his gaze he saw them waiting for him in the atrium. They turned their attention to him, first one, then all, their whispers silenced as they took him in, their coats and scabbards noisily reflecting their tension, hats in worried hand. He looked into the sun again, allowing the colors to fill him, his thoughts, and he breathed in deeply, holding his breath. He calmed himself, and returned his piercing gaze to the gathered men, renewing his confident stride towards them. Their fear was palpable, not knowing he was as afraid of them as they were of him, they believed in him. The time had come for good men to do what is right.
 
"Smartly now, there is not a moment to loose."
 

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