I reached for you, 
Even though distance shook
My strength,
But nothing found I
In the cold night set before me. 
Then, you came
With the weight of your glory
You came, filling the space
Behind and before
You came, in the pressure and terror
Of all that you are.
In half, bent, blood boiled silent scream
You came, like a rambling man
Like a stallion heaving and stamping, 
Snorting and kicking at my disbelief, 
You came, not speaking, not gently,
But in tremendum;
I was not the shore, but the water you swelled within, 
You rolled me, from my depths to shallows, 
Your constant wake whitecapped
My soul. 
God, augustum 
Spirit, mysterium
Torrens voluptatis

Tim's authored four books, including the children's book Shine So Bright and the critically acclaimed Veneer: Living Deeply in a Surface Society. He studied beauty in the works of C.S. Lewis for his PhD under Alister McGrath. When he's not scratching poetry, or chasing the scholar's craft, you can find him carving up the trails of the nearest national forest on his Salsa El Mariachi 29er.

He lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with his wife and three pixie-daughters, and two acres of Great Horned Owls.