Photo by Eddie Kopp on Unsplash

  My (R)evolution, part 8.

Since April 18 of this year my country of residence, beautiful Nicaragua, has been in a state of “social unrest” as the media still like to call it, trying to be politically correct, or maybe just afraid to put oil to the fire by calling it a revolution.

The events have triggered an unstoppable stream of thoughts in my head, that I have started to record with curiosity.

Although there is quite a bit of violence going on on the mainland, the little island where I live is still peaceful, so fear is not on my mind.

There has not yet been a moment of real panic in which I thought I’d better run now, before it is too late.

It’s hard to gauge “too late” anyway, before it actually is too late.

But it is very interesting to observe the shifts that happen in my mind and in the minds of people around me. It is not much of a linear and logic process, which makes it even more interesting to watch and see unfold.

Right around the time when the upheaval started, our little island community was gearing up towards a major push for sustainability – a green revolution about to begin. 

President Ortega and his wife, vice-president Rosario Murillo.

MY (R)EVOLUTION, PART 4.

The young didn’t know,

but deep within their spirits

a desire was burning,

a fire

lit by their parents

and grandparents too.

 

A fire sparking

a will to be free,

feeding an urge

to stand up and fight.

Fight for their right

to be human

to be safe to be alive,

unknown to the puppet on strings

pulled by dark madness

dressed up with the feathers

of a bird of paradise,

lost in a reality that isn’t theirs.

 

Paradise lost in the eddying vortex

of power and greed.

 

The young don’t remember

but they fight for their future

driven by the dreams of their old

to be human

to be safe

to be free

to be alive

 

Because real life cannot exist in the grip of steel,

dressed up in the colours of a bird of paradise.

 

This is part 4 in the series My (R)evolution, reporting from a country in chaos, trying to make sense of my own mind.

Find other episodes here.

 

This poem has also been published on Medium.com.

Think in full colour.

Spring greens and endless hues of blues. Squinting against the intense sunlight, you feel the moist salt on your skin, the breeze playing with your hair, the trickles of sweat running down your body from every fold of skin because that sun is hot.

Your nose picks up the sweetness of flowers attracting their love bugs; your ears are soothed by sounds of lapping waves. A hammock strung in the shade of the palm trees is inviting you for a siesta in paradise.

You’re living the dream: a stress-free life on a tiny tropical island.

Actually, I am living your dream. The picture I just painted in your mind’s eye really exists. It’s not a dream though.

I live in that dream picture—it’s just not the whole picture.

There’s much more to living on a tiny tropical island, and it isn’t all fun.