Reduced to absurdity,
the burning bush caught flame and I,
caught in the inferno, perished,
though its leaves still furl.

There is no moderation to divine love;
It is all or nothing; and
giving all, it takes all
consuming.

Reduced to smoulder, then, I choose
the anger of the embers, the hot rage of the ashes,
left behind,
spent.

I shall engulf you, flare and flame until
my sun burns brighter than your pale fire,
until my desire for you runs cold,
quenching.

And as the hart pants for the water,
you will use even that against me.