Ode to Inspiration Point, Aquia Landing

By Luke Phillips

Oh handmade strip of boulders jutting past Aquia’s sands

Into the broad Potomac, central vein of Yankee lands-

How many visions have you seen, amid the fading years?

How many lives, how many deaths, how many human tears?

Where Captain Smith beshored his boats, a-coming from the sea

Where Washington and Rochambeau once marched to make us free

Where Lincoln and his Generals traversed, pursuing Lee

Where bondsmen freed escaped along the path to Liberty?

In later years I’ve stood upon the rocks placed there by man,

Who gave your locale meaning through the dramas by their hand

I’ve whispered to the heavens and the waters of my plans

And heard them whisper back that, when those plans fall, they’ll still stand.

Glorious futures, born in my brain, perhaps borne on your strip

May fall upon your rocks and crack, just like so many ships

Or may come to fruition, or likely not- we’ll see-

But if they do they’ll be traced back to days of you and me

When I stood upon your jutted rocks and looked out to the sea.

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