Long ago I found a seed, And kept it in a glass of water, And half forgot my dim intent Until I saw it start to reach For life with one blind, fragile root. And then I pressed it into earth And saw its tendrils seek the air, So slowly that I hardly knew Of any change till it had grown A stalk, a leaf; and seemed to be No more a thing in need of me, But living by some sapience I had not given, could not withdraw.