Bartimeus Grown Old Poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

Bartimeus Grown Old

Rating: 3.3

YEA, I am he that dwelt beside this tomb.
I was a child. God smote me from the sun.
A little while, I had forgot to run
Under the rain-sweet roof of almond bloom.
I had forgotten summer, and the flaw
Ruffling the gray sea and the yellowed grain.
Now I am old and I forget again,
But a man came and touched me, and I saw.

Long years he dowered me with imperial day,
Bright-blossomed night and all the stars in trust.
Now I am blind again, and by the way
Wait still to catch his footsteps in the dust.
Surely he comes?–and he will hear my cry,
Though he were stricken and dim and old as I.

Shaun Cronick 03 June 2020

Tenderness and frailty wonderfully expressed in a quaint well written poem. A poem to make you hopefully stop and think, then reflect on.

1 0 Reply
Elizabeth Padillo Olesen 12 August 2012

Passionate way of writing about the old Bartimeus. The poet is able to put himself in the shoes of this old man and feel his sorrow and hope. Good reminder of the coming old age of everyone.

3 0 Reply
Shaun Cronick 03 June 2020

I believe you mean herself rather than himself.

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