Burning Bush?
The fire has died down to a flickering ember Barely discernable Barely felt The once-roaring flames of Presence and Power become a tiny, barely-glowing spark Too often the flame of Love has Consumed me, burning so Brightly, so fervently that Little else remained of me but ashes At this end of life A steady, persistent glow will suffice, I think... And yet, at times, That Holy Love still flares and flames Filling me with a daring warmth Fueling me for yet one more Daring dash into the flames of the bush burning in my path.