“Courage becomes the obstinacy of victims who resist their victimization…
The courage of a people or class is not proved by their risking their entire existence:
On the contrary, it is proved by their endurance and determination to survive…
The positive role of endurance cannot be demonstrated by any single act, event, or outcome.
The role is essentially a dialectical one of process and growth, transcending the individual case.
It is nothing less than the human power to continue.”
— John Berger, Art and Revolution
Wind down my back
through an empty corridor,
walking between despair and hope,
looking for something more.
Fire on the hill,
a thousand burning lights,
all of them piercing through they sky
to break the back of night.
Last night I had a dream:
A tree was standing tall,
all of the leaves a dark blood red
and all refuse to fall.
I dreamed a garden strewn
with seeds of anger, seeds of love;
With a bit of tending,
the plants will grow enough,
and the vines will tangle round
the loveless and the dead,
till no one will be left untouched
in days to come ahead.
Where there's a fire burning bright
through the empty corridor
rushing past despair and hope
to the peace we're looking for.