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Picture by: Mary Stabińska

The Sublime

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The mass of sharp edges and misty summits
stands cold, gazing at me
I can see it frown,
the mountain,
Clench its fists
and fix its frigid smirk in place

Unshaken by this storm of stone, the wind
pearls the passing clouds
so through them, seeps the sun

Light escapes.
Shy, it peeks discreetly – then,
as it gains confidence, glides to the front
past those curtains of stone

Leans toward the forestage,
commences the show.

Blazing now
It sets the stones into distance
where cuddled by clouds they no longer scare –
Sheep in wolf’s clothes,
whose roar softens and sinks
In the sunlight.

Written by:

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Mary Stabińska

Politics & Society Section Editor

Warsaw, Poland

Co-founder of Harbingers' Magazine

Born in 2004 in Warsaw, Poland, Mary Stabińska is currently preparing to complete A Levels in Politics, French, History, and Polish. She speaks English, Polish, and French fluently. At Harbingers’ Magazine, Mary writes and edits the Politics & Society section.

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