If I were Cuba, I would want a tight hug, the kind in which tenderness pierces your skin and penetrates your soul, with the certainty that you are loved beyond words, insufficient to describe the passion that intoxicates you.
That my children, all of them, those near and far, would understand that the freedom they fly as a battle flag is a banner under which to be unique, that differences do not make them enemies; Disrespecting individuality makes them invasive, arrogant…
If I were Cuba, I would choose every night to sleep wrapped in the caresses of a warm hand, in which desire beats under a protective, healing love.
I would be happy to laugh at double-meaning, silly and naive jokes and I would cover my face, ashamed of the mockery that targets the errors of any of those born from my womb.
If I were Cuba, I would like to be covered with crops, in eternal harvest, that would surround me with prosperity.
I would like to make a song with loud laughter, in which genuine joy is heard like bells, and dress myself in the light of transparent, limpid looks, loaded with hopes and illusions, which would serve as light to reach every hiding place, where doubts are hidden. crouch in the shadows.
If I were Cuba, I would long for a dawn overflowing with positive energies, to vibrate under the influence of the good actions of each of my inhabitants, to know that they are happy, successful, happy, with their appetites of body and soul fully satisfied.
He would enjoy each advance achieved by wisdom and open paths for its multiplication, enthroning knowledge, abilities and skills.
If I were Cuba, I would catch every ray of sun so that we do not lack light when the night covers us with its mantle.
I would like to see renovated towns and cities, preserving the corners in which history accumulates, without ruinous facades or shameful interiors.
If I were Cuba, I would hope that the effort would be enough to undo poverty; the will and good intentions to avoid mistakes; erase sadness and distances.
I would institute smiles and hugs as a payment system; I would make savings accounts with love, tenderness, memory.
If I were Cuba, I would like the “I don’t have”, “do you remember when before…?”, and words like scarcity, enemy, insufficient, vulnerable, deficit… to fall into disuse.
It would keep me safe from hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, laziness, apathy, lies and careerism; I would look for a place to hide from those who carry me on their lips without giving me shelter in their soul, from those who believe me to be theirs alone and do not know how to share me.
If I were Cuba, I would give substance to the faith that my inhabitants profess, without boxing in religions, because despite their different names, under these deities the illusions of better times are protected.
It would erase hatred, resentment, envy; In its place I would put reconciliation, empathy, solidarity…
If I were Cuba, I would like to cradle promising expectations and see them leave my lap to grow and be more, much more than what was imagined by those who engendered them.
I would be happy with every celebration or revelry in which whole families were present, without video calls or messages, and that they even forgot to take photos, because what is truly important is to live that moment of communion and joy.
If I were Cuba, I would play matchmaker so that Prospero and Esperanza would have a son named Futuro.
What if you were Cuba…?
