July 7, 2012


Posted in Poetry tagged at 10:12 pm by Tamara

I’m ready for Autumn.


Ready for cosy sweaters, hearty soups,

pumpkin candles, leather boots.


Chilly breezes, twinkling stars,

flame-red leaves, raking yards.


Crackling fires, love-worn books,

snuggly blankets, steaming cups.


Fly faster, Fall!


June 11, 2010


Posted in Poetry, Writing Spashes tagged , at 11:57 pm by Tamara

I couldn’t think of anything interesting to write tonight, so I was searching through my quotes file when I found this. It’s a bad, bad, BAD example of “poetry” (please accept my humble and heartfelt apologies to the entire genre for using that term to describe it) but it still resonates with me.

At last I stop, I crumble, and let all the pieces fall.
Transparent at last, a broken, watermarked soul.

There has to be more you want from me;
Some strength You’ve given me to play a part in this eternal vision
That dances with searing steps through my consciousness.

Why don’t You pick me up and dust me off and turn me into a
Blazing mirror of Your glory that flashes into the darkness?

But I’m no shining mirror; instead I’m a lump of broken clay,
And I can feel the cracks painfully traveling through me
How can I hold any of Your majesty in this state?
I am desperately trying to hold the pieces together,
Trying to protect this shiny pretext from realty.

Then a searing ray of dazzling light shoots from nowhere.
I see it dancing through the cracks and piercing deep into the darkness.
It staggers me in wonder as its brilliant, glorious beams escape,
And I realize this light has burst from behind this crumbled, cracked façade,
No longer bound by all of me that was in the way until I was torn asunder.

Like Gideon’s jars smashed to pieces, I’m broken,
But the light is revealed, and it envelops me and dances majestically
As I suddenly realize that transparency
Is only a measure of how much light I allow to travel through me.
My desperate attempts to hold the pieces of my pretence of perfection together
Have only kept the real glory from shooting into the darkness.

This shattered, broken, dusty lump of clay
Is a perfect example of all You can do with nothing.
I realize why I’m clay—so that the surpassing glory will obviously be Yours.
It must be You, it must.

Oh, Father,  I need You.  No one else has the words of life.

“But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves;  we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;  always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body…  Therefore we do not lose heart.”  2 Corinthians 4:7-10, 16

Copyright T.H., January 16, 2007

July 7, 2009


Posted in Poetry tagged at 8:56 pm by Tamara

My soul is running tonight.
Restless, answerless;
I can’t fight, so I run.
I run inside, run to You.

Lord, I long to express
The heavenly void in my heart
That aches and calls in words
that are not from this world

I am running inside,
Running, beating, fighting the air.
Stop me, still me.
I fling myself to Your feet.

These aches rush through my soul—
This holy dissatisfaction,
It whips and waves in torrents
Captured within me.

The flame of Your Word
consumes me softly and strongly.
Let the fire dance and whip,
Burn me down to fiery coals.

Light confined within me cries
to be thrown in piercing beams.
Break me, set it free!
Show Your surpassing greatness.

Oh Father, find me.
Speak to me, light me.
Penetrate the darkest corners,
Flood me with your light.

I can only be light as You consume.
Dead to self, alive to You.
Set me as a flame on fire,
Burn me out in a land of darkness.

Let them see Your light as I burn away.
Less of me, Lord—
Less of me.

June 25, 2009

Loved by the God of the Storm

Posted in Poetry tagged at 9:40 am by Tamara

Lightning sparkles outside my window
As rain scatters across the ground.
Thunder vibrates a power unknowable
As winds dance wildly in chaos.

Somehow the tumult outside calms the storm in me.
The torrents match a river inside
As they whip and wave and cascade
In rapids indefinable and painful.

I sit entranced with eyes uplifted
My knees hugged to my chest.
Why of all You could demonstrate tonight
Have You chosen to show Your strength?

The lesson I cannot seem to learn
Presses heavily against my raging emotions.
The pieces are searing, ones I cannot forget,
And yet understanding spitefully eludes me.

I desperately crave Your comfort and assurance.
The pain of rejection is like icy daggers tonight,
I cried and sank to bed exhausted,
Until I woke and wandered out to behold Your glory.

How well You know the caverns of my soul.
You who have searched me and known me,
And woven together every intricate detail
Of who I am—of the emotions that tear at me tonight.

It is You who knows how to comfort.
I, in my brokenness, do not even know what I crave.
But now I sit and behold the wonders that declare who You are,
The heavens that proclaim Your majesty.

Tonight You did not want to show Your mercy,
It is not Your gentleness that I see outside,
Nor is it Your justice that seems to call
From the tempest’s wild ballet.

Strength is what I see tonight
As lightning sparks untraceably while
Thunder crashes through heavy air and
Raindrops shatter like diamonds.

What strength that can contain the torrents,
That can draw on the sky with white-hot lightning
And send the winds to throw the rain in beauty—
All to send a message to a broken, weary soul.

I cry in my brokenness.
I hold up the pieces of my shattered heart
“Do You not see me?  Can You mend me?”
This ache is above words, above my understanding.

And You respond with this—
This rushing, sparkling, pounding display of Your strength.
To the ache in me beyond words,
You respond with a tempest beyond words.

You who orchestrate the mighty beauty I am captivated with
Hold the events of my life in Your hand.
The same hands that send lightning dancing across the stars
Are the hands which filter all that touches me.

Why am I afraid when You are the One who loves me—
You communicate in what You know I will hear.
What love is this that will command the heavens
Simply to calm a broken, weary heart?

You enthrall me as I behold Your splendor,
There is peace in the waves as I behold my Lord.
I stand in the torrents of the love of the Mighty One—
I am loved by the God of the storm.

Copyright TH, 2005

June 24, 2009


Posted in Poetry, Water Droplets tagged at 9:13 am by Tamara

I just found all this poetry that I’d forgotten I’d written. It’s ironic, because I have NEVER considered myself a poet. Once in class I was forced to write a poem so I wrote it about how I don’t write poetry. Yeah.

But, it was amazing to me how much emotion just flooded back when I read some of these poems. They’re so…vivid (I don’t know if it’s the poems or the emotions–ha). I can’t decide which one to post.