Until you have held a dying bird in your hand

Or watched away the midnight hours

While a mother cat kittens Don't talk to me about power!

Until you have carried the soul of a pony

On the mighty wings of Pegasus

While the gentle vet's hands have eased its body's pain

Don't talk to me about power!

Until you have breathed life into a pup's mouth,

Or splinted the wing of an injured swan

With sedge reeds and garden stakes

Don't talk to me about power!

Until the rapid beat of a rabbit's heart

Has trembled against your fingertips,

Or you have buried a motorway badger cub

Don't talk to me about power!

If you have searched for tadpoles

Watchful by the muddy pool

And laughed at frogs' leaping in summer fields

Then think and ask about power.

Power is a swallow's flight, migrating Southwards,

Power is the crying of a fallow deer,

Power is sensing all their mysteries

Understand that,

And then talk to me about power.

(Copyright Janet Farrar; 1978)