In desert hush, where silence grew, A shepherd walked with skies of blue. No temple walls, no priestly sound, just sheep and dust and rocky ground. But there, a flame that did not die, A bush ablaze beneath the sky. No ash, no smoke, no scorched decay, just holy fire that chose to stay. He turned aside, drawn by the flame, then heard the voice that called his name. “Moses, Moses” not with dread, but love that wakes the sleeping dead. “Remove your shoes,” the voice declared, “For where you stand, my light is shared. This ground is holy, not by stone, but by My presence, here alone. ” He hid his face, afraid to see The God of truth and legacy. Of Abraham, of Isaac’s line, Of Jacob’s dreams and love divine. So even now, in desert days, God speaks through fire in quiet ways. Not to condemn, but to invite, to turn aside and see the light.“

The bush that burned and spoke”, not just glowing, but alive with calling.