Across the Tidal Basin

From marble dome where Jefferson stands,
I watch the White House from these lands
Its distant frame, so small, so still,
Yet heavy with the nation’s will.

Reflected soft in water’s face,
A house of power, poised with grace.
Between us lies a tranquil gleam,
And all the space for thought and dream.

Jefferson, in bronze repose,
Reads words he once to paper chose
“All men are equal,” carved and true,
Yet shadowed by what he once knew.

The cherry trees bow in the breeze,
Their petals drifting with such ease.
But history does not fall light
It lingers long, it questions right.

I gaze across and feel the span
Of hope, of struggle, wrought by man.
The White House glows in daylight’s hush,
A beacon, and a binding hush.

What freedom means, what justice weighs,
We measure still through modern days.
From monument to mansion’s light,
A nation stares into its fight.

Yet here, between the past and now,
I breathe, reflect, and make a vow:
To bridge this water not with stone,
But acts that prove we’ve truly grown.