Choir of angels from paradise, 1902
First, the silence.
Shortly, the murmur of a breeze full of good omens.
Scrub hands and arms.
Then the rattle of the drops.
Snap of fingers
A drizzle, which in seconds turned into a downpour.
Clapping and more frequent clicking.
Finally, a storm with thunder and lightning.
Click of heels on the wood of the auditorium.
I remained very still, letting myself be drenched by that sweet water.
They call it body percussion. The perfect storm.
Later, a cascade of coral voices, words of love.
Soaked to the marrow with a strange fullness, I closed my eyes and let myself be caressed by those powerful female voices, powerful and sonorous; noble, honest. Like each one of those women from the Westwinds Women’s Choir from my city of Calgary.
The piece, All Together we are Love (*), by Katerina Gimón.
The director marked with a gesture of her hand, the sublime ending.
The sweet rain stopped.
I applauded them wildly, them and all of us, women, mothers, grandmothers, daughters.
Each one with that intimate song that we harbor deep inside:
(*) “I am a song for all hearts
And when our spirits rise
All together we are love”.
And speaking of wonderful women, Happy Mother’s Day!
Today she shares her “impulsive meditations” from Calgary, Canada, where she lives.
leonorcanada@gmail.com