In a garden, vast and wild,
A seedling stands, unsure, alone.
The sun above, a distant glow,
The path ahead, it does not know.

The trees around, so tall and grand,
Their roots stand deep in familiar land.
They whisper stories of where they’ve been,
Of skies they’ve touched, of winds they’ve seen.

But here I am, a seedling small.
With dreams that rise, and feet that fall,
Landing in soil, both firm and loose,
A place to grow, but I know not a clue.

The rivers speak of distant shores,
Of lands unknown, of open doors.
Yet, in their flow, I see my doubt,
Which way to turn, which route to scout?

The garden speaks of Cambridge skies,
Of ivy walls and learned eyes.
But I, a seed, still in the ground,
Feel lost in all the sights and sounds.

I do not know where roots will spread,
Or where the flowers will show their head.
The future’s vast, an open field,
With secrets that it won’t reveal.

So here I stand, in morning’s light,
A seedling with a heart so bright.
I may not know which way to go,
But in this garden, I will grow.