Poetry by Ruth Zwald
Sometimes it is like an ache, this longing
for a burst of new life. To ease my soul
and find respite from the wonderings,
I breathe quietly.
For a burst of new life to ease my soul
stained and strained and oh-so-weary,
I breathe quietly
when hope flickers like a candle uncertain.
Stained and strained and oh-so-weary,
the aroma of good coffee is often enough
when hope flickers like a candle uncertain
in the windowsill of winter.
The aroma of good coffee is often enough
when shared with a friend. Laughter dances
in the windowsill of winter.
My age is visible in the lines around my eyes.
When shared with a friend, laughter dances
in the face of my fears.
My age is visible in the lines around my eyes
to tell the stories of all I hold dear.
In the face of my fears
sometimes it is like an ache – this longing
to tell the stories of all I hold dear
and find respite from the wonderings.
On her farm in West Michigan, Ruth Zwald lives close to the earth through her lifestyle and spiritual practices. Upon retirement, she started to unearth words. Winner of the Michigan Writers Cooperative Press in 2024 for her chapbook, Bones And Breath, and recently published in Farmer-ish Journal and The Guided Weathervane.
