In the eldest days,
Ilúvatar caused the Ainur
to sing the world into being;

And the song was beyond beauty;
It brought Life and Growth,
the Song brought the beginnings
of Peace and Laughter and Joy
and all that was Good.

Go now into an old forest,
Go deep into it’s heart
Then just be still and listen,
Hear the groaning creak of old pine boughs,
the soft rustle of birch leaves,
the subtle swish of willow wands,
the long whining anthem of a cicada.
That is the echo of Ilúvatar’s song,
Hear it and be at Peace.

Find a lush spring meadow,
Walk out into it’s midst,
Lie down in the fresh green and listen,
Hear the sigh of the wind stirring the long grass,
the insistent humming of bumbling bees,
the delicate foot falls of a passing fox,
the warm languid lilt of a lark.
That is the echo of Ilúvatar’s song,
Hear it and remember how sweet Laughter can be,

Seek out a free flowing river,
Wander along it’s winding banks,
Breath deep the clear damp air and listen,
Hear the rill and ripple of the early narrows,
the gurgle and splash as it leaps
from boulder to boulder,
the roar and rush of pulsing rapids,
the deep throated thunder of water
falling endlessly into a deep gully.
That is the echo of Ilúvatar’s song,
Hear it and let your heart fill with Joy.

Now go to the middle of a crowded city,
Look for some small space,
Move away from the throng and listen,
Hear the screaming of metal on metal,
the endless thrum of wheels on pavement;
of wheels within wheels,
the grinding of gears and the clunk of cogs,
the course angry voices cursing and threatening,
This is the whisper of Orthanc
and the murmur of Bara-dûr,
Hear it and be afraid.