It’s 2009. Do You Know Where Your Soul Is?
By BONO
I AM in Midtown Manhattan, where drivers still play their car horns as if they were musical instruments and shouting in restaurants is sport. I am a long way from the warm breeze of voices I heard a week ago on Easter Sunday.
“Glorify your name,” the island women sang, as they swayed in a cut sandstone church. I was overwhelmed by a riot of color, an emotional swell that carried me to sea. Christianity, it turns out, has a rhythm — and it crescendos this time of year.
The rumba of Carnival gives way to the slow march of Lent, then to the staccato hymnals of the Easter parade. From revelry to reverie. After 40 days in the desert, sort of ... Carnival — rock stars are good at that.
Read the rest here.
“Glorify your name,” the island women sang, as they swayed in a cut sandstone church. I was overwhelmed by a riot of color, an emotional swell that carried me to sea. Christianity, it turns out, has a rhythm — and it crescendos this time of year.
The rumba of Carnival gives way to the slow march of Lent, then to the staccato hymnals of the Easter parade. From revelry to reverie. After 40 days in the desert, sort of ... Carnival — rock stars are good at that.
Read the rest here.
No comments:
Post a Comment