Fingers Crossed.. a poem for our times
The buds now open, sun dispels the dark
The nights of bat give way to morning lark.
And as we emerge, blinking, into the light,
Brim full with fright, and delight,
Apprehensive, yet pensive of all we have faced
And what may lie ahead, braced
Despite it all, against the odds
We hold hands aloft, with fingers crossed.
When threads seem thin which hold
Us upright, out of hospital bed.
Minds spin with hope defeating dread
Our man, our mam, our nan or
All we risk our lives to love,
Those still here or some are now above.
When fearful of the prospect of the lost
We grip our hands, with fingers crossed.
And facing changes, leap before you look,
Jump from warm platform above the storm
Into racing wind, held only by a cord
Eyes wide shut, a scream of fear
Which makes our weak pulse race
And puts a grimace or a smile on face.
When all the dice into the air are tossed
We watch and pray, with fingers crossed.
And when with doubts our thoughts disturbed
We fake it till we make it,
Keep on keeping on may be enough
Talk the talk and hope to pull it off.
We let it lie and lies we tell lie stacked in piles
Between me and you, we know it isn’t true
Our profits still outweighed by cost,
Our hands behind our backs, with fingers crossed.
Palm outwards we want it all to stop
Fingers clench into a fighting fist
Or thumbs up, or teeth sunk into wrist
High five, then middle finger raised
Or V for victory, reversed in hate
Two thumbs up, gripping fingers eight,
The church and people will
Shelter beneath the steeple.
Like them, we are not alone,
Our blessings counting, folding bone on bone
The sign of hearts may stop us
Fingers woven like cogs, from falling apart.
Like fragile petals, in cold winter sun,
Or lazy bees whose lives have not begun.
And all together, huddling from the frost,
I hold your hand, with fingers crossed.