Poems

Wrestling with spiritual themes, Wystan shares her work with readers. Poetry is a rare but appreciated addition to New Church Perspective's publishing fare. -Editor

Chosen

We lined up and stood there
waiting to be chosen
for dancing class.
I see it again --
The awful moment
watching them come across,
and part
to each side around me,
choosing partners.
How much easier
years before
when the square dancing began--
the boy’s devilish look as he spit into his hands.
There was nothing personal in it,
a general derision of the dancing world,
and girls.
But now the boys are more invested,
and the unintended insult
burns
the scrawny girl
burdened as she is
with an intellect, intensity,
glasses,
and no figure.

But see another time –  bright sunlight and your shining eyes.
You chose me.
I knew it – still I took a year to know – and almost passed you by.
I needed that, to dangle you a little
to say into infinity
I’m not so easy won! ---
Not even by my dearest friend,
my chosen.

1999/2012

Mother’s Prayer

My babies are not mine
but yours.
You will love them better than I –
never spank or scream,
or slam kitchen cabinets,
caught in the confusion
of a messy mind
and house.

But you will guide them peacefully,
  constant -
guiding that though all-powerful
 still does not control.
You will grieve for their mistakes,
 calm, gentle grief, that still is not cold.

How can these things be? she asked
of the angel –
It is high –I cannot attain it! ---

Heavenly Father, I worship you
Mother and Father both,
and neither.
Beyond division by gender or race
Origin
Life original
One.
I will teach them of you;
Mama tries hard,
but your Lord loves you best.

May 1994

My Father’s Hands

My father’s hands wound my children
The rage passed down
like family jewels
is now my inheritance.

The silence that guards the guilt
I must break
for the sake of my children
for our grandchildren’s sake
for world peace.

Peace for the world begins here:
I am sorry – I am angry – it is not your fault.

These words I can say to my children
to try to end the chain of lashing out---
but can I go backwards
and to my father say the same?

I am sorry -- I am angry -- it is not your fault ---

1998

Wystan Simons

Wystan is an always and emerging writer who lives in Mitchellville, Maryland, with her husband of twenty years, and more or less four teenage children (some are in dorms), enjoying occasional visits of two more adult step-children. She is known to one adorable boy as Ya-Ya, to the nervous dog as protection, and to her chickens as a white food bucket. Apart from writing, she loves all forms of art, and gardening with her hubby.