When I have strength, I soon can force,
my will upon the weaker link.
When I have power, I should not think,
I have been granted liberty –
To act, to move, to satisfy,
my own great ego unabashed.
The grace of power when truly borne,
is framing possibility’s new face.
It’s use propels a new creation,
that’s built upon a firm foundation.
To trust, to hope, release with joy,
magnificence found in another’s soul.
broken character can soon excuse,
the use of strength, in fact to use,
the weak, the poor unknown child,
to make my things into a pile.
I rationalize my strength as gift,
from God above, thus sinecure!
Yet God grants power, within the humble,
to open rusted doors in deep dark holes.
This power transforms as a gift of light,
and breathes the mystery of Life.
True power is so rarely seen,
When politics preens on graves unseen.
So lift a song for those who will,
to live with power and dream of grace.
Power does corrupt, when seen as strength,
to do whatever makes me great.
But when it’s cloaked in sacrifice,
It’s legacy creates tyranny’s fate.
Author – Bill Tidsbury