Hannah Sorenson’s Reviews > Little Alleluias: Collected Poetry and Prose > Status Update
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 132 of 256
Foreword for Long Life
^In this book you will find, set among the prose pieces, a few poems. Think of them that way, as little alleluias. They’re not trying to explain anything, as the prose does. They just sit there on the page, and breathe.^
Title spotted!
— 21 hours, 27 min ago
^In this book you will find, set among the prose pieces, a few poems. Think of them that way, as little alleluias. They’re not trying to explain anything, as the prose does. They just sit there on the page, and breathe.^
Title spotted!
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Hannah’s Previous Updates
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 216 of 256
^You too can be carved anew by the details of your devotion.^
— 19 hours, 33 min ago
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 153 of 256
^It is the performance of this hour only, the dawning of the day, fresh and ever new. This is to say nothing against afternoons evenings or even midnight. Each has its portion of the spectacular. But dawn—dawn is a gift.^
— 21 hours, 1 min ago
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 142 of 256
^The patterns of our lives reveal us. Our habits measure us. Our battles with our habits speak of dreams yet to become real.^
— 21 hours, 10 min ago
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 135 of 256
^Every day my early morning walk along the water grants me a second waking.^
— 21 hours, 27 min ago
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 98 of 256
Gratitude
^then the deep cup of the hour of silence^
— Jul 01, 2026 11:32AM
^then the deep cup of the hour of silence^
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 88 of 256
On Losing a House
^1.
The bumble bees
know where their home is.
They have memorized
every stalk and leaf
of the field.
They fall from the air at
exactly
the right place,
they crawl
under the soft grasses,
they enter
the darkness
humming.^
— Jul 01, 2026 11:09AM
^1.
The bumble bees
know where their home is.
They have memorized
every stalk and leaf
of the field.
They fall from the air at
exactly
the right place,
they crawl
under the soft grasses,
they enter
the darkness
humming.^
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 44 of 256
Gravel
^9.
I look up
into the faces of the stars,
into their deep silence.^
— Jun 27, 2026 03:02PM
^9.
I look up
into the faces of the stars,
into their deep silence.^
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 19 of 256
^5.
[…]
Have I walked
long enough
where the sea breaks raspingly
all day and all night upon the pale sand?
Have I admired sufficiently the little hurricane
of the hummingbird?^
— Jun 22, 2026 06:06PM
[…]
Have I walked
long enough
where the sea breaks raspingly
all day and all night upon the pale sand?
Have I admired sufficiently the little hurricane
of the hummingbird?^
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 19 of 256
cont’d
I am touching a few leaves.
I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies
move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field.
And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening
is the real work.
Maybe the world, without us,
is the real poem.^
— Jun 22, 2026 06:04PM
I am touching a few leaves.
I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies
move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field.
And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening
is the real work.
Maybe the world, without us,
is the real poem.^
Hannah Sorenson
is on page 19 of 256
From The Book of Time
^1.
I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk.
But it's spring,
and the thrush is in the woods,
somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing.
And so, now, I am standing by the open door.
And now I am stepping down onto the grass.
— Jun 22, 2026 06:03PM
^1.
I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk.
But it's spring,
and the thrush is in the woods,
somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing.
And so, now, I am standing by the open door.
And now I am stepping down onto the grass.
