On the third day, the sky grew loud. Thunder rolled beneath the cloud. Lightning flashed, the trumpet cried, the people trembled, terrified. Moses led them, hearts afraid, to where the holy fire laid. The mountain smoked, the furnace roared. Creation bowed before the Lord. The trumpet’s voice grew strong, grew near, each blast a call: “The Lord is here!” Moses spoke, his words were small, God thundered back, the voice of all. So, still we stand, with hearts undone. Before the fire, the cloud, the One. Holy, mighty, fierce, yet kind. The God of Sinai, truth defined.