Now I become myself. It's
taken
Time, many years and places,
I have been dissolved and
shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were
there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"hurry, you will be dead before
-----"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
or the end of the poem, is
clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be
here,
Feel my own weight and density!.....
Now there is time and Time is
young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move
I,
the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the
Sun!
~ May Sarton ~
(Collected Poems
1930-1993)
(left button to play, right button
to save)