The Language of Heart|
Sumary: The king of Gondor is also a High Priest. For a long time, Gondor had no king, and nobody ascended to the holy places upon Mindolluin, where the kings used to commune with Ilúvatar. But now, it changed, and the land rejoices…
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places belong to Tolkien.
The echoes of your step. Do you hear them, spreading
like invisible waves across the land?
Soft and quiet, the step of one that’s used to move
unheard. The doe grazing nearby does not raise her head. The birds do
not fly away from the tree above your head. And yet – I feel it. Every
step echoes through the soil and stone, to my very bones. Every step
makes me shiver with expectation.
I am your land, Elessar…
I am the wind, blowing softly in the treetops. I am
the corn ripening in the fields. I am the hills and dells, the mountains
reaching for the sky and the deep caves where sun never shines.
The rivers are my veins, and wind is my breath. I am the memory of all
people that have lived here, the echoes of their voices, the pain of
blisters on their hands, the blood that soaked into the soil. All of
that gave me my voice, and I that voice is who I am. I am Gondor…
Your step echoes upon the ancient path. It leads into
my very heart… Here, upon Mindolluin, my voice is strongest. Here,
the kings of old used to come and ask for Eru’s blessings – not
for themselves, but for me… Many men were born and died, many times
the corn ripened since the last king stood here. So long I have been
alone here. All the time waiting, hoping.
And now you are here, ascending the mountain with
a soft and even step. You stand on a sacred place, where only a king
can go. You are unsure, suddenly not knowing what to do - it is something
that cannot be written anywhere… that cannot be said… there are
no words… Listen to me, and you will understand.
The heart beating in your chest. The rhythm of your
breath. The sound of wind among the stones. Somewhere high, an eagle
cries. The voice of your land. Listen with your heart…
You raise your hands to the sky, but your heart rises
even higher in prayer. It has no words. The language of the heart does
not need any words. No sounds to confine the true meaning. In that moment,
your heart touches mine and together, we seek our Creator. We are one
– the land and the king, and through your hands, Eru’s blessing
spreads over the land like a golden wave.
Long was my waiting for this moment, and it came.
Here, upon the mountain, Eru himself have blessed our union. I am your
land, and you are my king.