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Now I Become Myself by May Sarton – Famous poems, famous poets. – All Poetry

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• Summary of article content: Articles about Now I Become Myself by May Sarton – Famous poems, famous poets. – All Poetry 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, …
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Now I Become Myself, by May Sarton

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• Summary of article content: Articles about Now I Become Myself, by May Sarton Such a beautiful poem! Sharing with friends. Sums up a lifetime with the profound insight that when we are “running”, time feels old, but when we “stand still” … …
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Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton | LiteraryLadiesGuide

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• Summary of article content: Articles about Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton | LiteraryLadiesGuide “Now I Become Myself” is a beloved poem by May Sarton (1912 – 1995) that captures the spirit of a well-examined life. …
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Now I become myself

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Now I Become Myself – The Atlantic

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Now I Become Myself
by May Sarton
| The Writer’s Almanac with Garrison Keillor

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  Now I Become Myself … (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 … …
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  Now I Become Myself … (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 … The Writer’s Almanac with Garrison Keillor: ‘Now I Become Myself’ by May Sarton, and the literary and historical notes for Saturday, June 4, 2011.American Public Media, APM, Public Radio, Garrison Keillor, writers almanac, poems, daily poetry, good poems, on this day, literary, keeler, keilor
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Now I Become Myself, by May Sarton

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!

The black shadow on the paper

Is my hand; the shadow of a word

As thought shapes the shaper

Falls heavy on the page, is heard.

All fuses now, falls into place

From wish to action, word to silence,

My work, my love, my time, my face

Gathered into one intense

Gesture of growing like a plant.

As slowly as the ripening fruit

Fertile, detached, and always spent,

Falls but does not exhaust the root,

So all the poem is, can give,

Grows in me to become the song,

Made so and rooted by love.

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!

Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton

Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton

By Taylor Jasmine | On May 30, 2016 | Updated December 30, 2020 | Comments (10)

“Now I Become Myself” is a beloved poem by May Sarton (1912 – 1995) that captures the spirit of a well-examined life.

How often do we, especially women, show up to life as someone other than our true self? We’re taught to be people-pleasers, so we wear the face and show the demeanor we think others will expect, instead of being who we truly are.

May Sarton was an American poet, novelist, and memoirist who spent a lifetime learning who she was. In her journals, best known of which are Plant Dreaming Deep and Journal of a Solitude, she explored isolation, love, relationships, sexual identity, success, failure, gratitude, nature, the seasons, and the joys and struggles of a creative life.

The 1993 collection of May Sarton’s poems (W.W. Norton, NY), encapsulates what she achieved with her body of poetry:

“Arranged chronologically, these poems reveal the full breadth of Sarton’s creative vision. Themes include the search for an inward order, her passions, the natural world, self-knowledge, and, in her latest poems, the trials of old age.

Moving through Sarton’s work, we see her at ease in both traditional forms and free verse, finding inspiration in snow over a dark sea, a cat’s footfall on the stairs, an unexpected love affair. Here is the creative process itself, its sources, demands, and joys – a handbook of the modern poetic psyche.”

. . . . . . . . . .

Self-Searching Quotes from Journal of a Solitude

(1937 Portrait of May Sarton by Polly Thayer Starr)

. . . . . . . . . .

Now I become myself

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!

The black shadow on the paper

Is my hand; the shadow of a word

As thought shapes the shaper

Falls heavy on the page, is heard.

All fuses now, falls into place

From wish to action, word to silence,

My work, my love, my time, my face

Gathered into one intense

Gesture of growing like a plant.

As slowly as the ripening fruit

Fertile, detached, and always spent,

Falls but does not exhaust the root,

So all the poem is, can give,

Grows in me to become the song,

Made so and rooted by love.

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!

— From Collected Poems 1930 – 1993 by May Sarton © W.W. Norton, 1993

. . . . . . . . . .

Collected Poems of May Sarton 1930 – 1993 on Amazon*

. . . . . . . . . .

*This is an Amazon Affiliate link. If the product is purchased by linking through, Literary Ladies Guide receives a modest commission, which helps maintain our site and helps it to continue growing!

Now I Become Myself

by MAY SARTON

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.

The black shadow on the paper

Is my hand; the shadow of a word

As thought shapes the shaper

Falls heavy on the page, is heard.

All fuses now, falls into place

From wish to action, word to silence.

My work, my love, my time, my face

Gathered into one intense

Gesture of growing like a plant.

As slowly as the ripening fruit

Fertile, detached, and always spent,

Falls but does not exhaust the root,

So all the poem is, can give

Grows in me to become the song,

Made so and rooted so by love.

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!

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