Mont Blanc and My Unmoving Heart

Today was one of those rare days when reality felt like poetry. In our department, a few staff members were rearranging tables and chairs. I didn’t really pay much attention to it until I saw where they had placed them. Just outside, facing the grand mountain view, stood a small temple, nestled quietly on a slope, kissed by sunlight and surrounded by still air. It was beautiful. More than that, it was sacred.

The moment reminded me of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem Mont Blanc. In the poem, Shelley speaks of the mountain not just as a natural wonder but as a symbol of the unknown, of the silent power of nature, and of the deep thoughts that flow quietly through us when we pause and look around.

“Far, far above, piercing the infinite sky,
Mont Blanc appears…”

Those lines echoed in my heart. Today, I saw not just a mountain, but something eternal an unmoving giant that seems to hold all secrets in silence. The little temple on the hill made it even more spiritual. It felt like the mountain itself was a temple, and the chairs arranged below were pews of worship.

Everyone was moving around, fixing things. But I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to change my place. That view, that silence, that strange closeness to something beyond words it held me like a quiet prayer.

Shelley was right. Some places speak without words. Today, Mont Blanc was not just a poem I read in class it was something I lived.

And I’m not ready to leave that moment behind.

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