The Trembling Alleluia

The Trembling Alleluia

Hushed, bowed low, reverent. The trembling alleluia.

I don’t know how to be.

I don’t know how to Be.

The past three years of hollowing-become-hallowing has resculpted the landscape of my life, like a river run wild, tearing against embankments and uprooting long-cherished willow trees adorning the edge.

Ravaging, painful and holy, the river. 

I’ve forgotten how to write and how to show up so I guess I’ll just sit here. In what’s true. And I think that is what I needed all along. No flowery language; no mystical prose. Just truth, right now, even wince-worthy truth. 

Like when light falls on everything you held sacred to reveal the truth: that it was nothingness disguised as everythingness, and I fell for it, I did, and I shared it. I shared it with you and you and you as a discovery to delight over, to transform you, to embody.

I’ve learned that on the other side of everything is nothing; it is less than nothing; it ravages and steals and uses you up and leaves you battered, penniless, mostly dead on the outskirts of your living. 

And very much alone.

Yes, I am intense. Yes, a bit savage. 

But soft, so soft. Soft with truth.

Honestly, I don’t know how to untangle it all and so maybe we’ll just sit with it, you and I, and be all awkward and tender for awhile.

—hillary m.

No comments:

Powered by Blogger.

New ink.

Orphaned Believers by Sara Billups: A Critic's Review

There is a man I met in person once, a writer I loved. He wrote things that would bring on the closed eyes, the quick, soft groan of ugh, ye...


River Woman

River Woman

In the Wilderness

"Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." Is. 43:19

"Blessed is the {woman} Who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, Nor stands in the path of sinners, Nor sits in the seat of the scornful; But {her} delight is in the law of the Lord, And in His law {she} meditates day and night. {She} shall be like a tree Planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever {she} does shall prosper." Ps. 1:1-3

Contact Form


Email *

Message *