Oh, how I see the world running on the road to perdition! Oh, what so tremendous
pain, pain that is impossible to explain! To be a mother, mother who loves
without having the corresponding love, and to see humanity escape me; all my dear
children die. Die in the vices, in the pleasures, in the follies of sin. They
mad for joy, and I mad with love for them, to save them!
The light I own penetrates everything and everyone. The light is not
mine nor is for me, but with it I see the greatest disorders and miseries. This
light sees everything that goes on land and feel that itself wants to rebel
against the same land. Its rays cannot face the slime and disgusting mud that earth
contains.
The tower (see here) that arose in me is going up, up, goes to heaven. I feel that
goes so high, but its eyes do not reach its aim. It goes up and, as upshot, with
it rises the light; and from above sees the world, enlightens the world, over
it spreads its rays, rays that try to climb to itself because they cannot think
of the world.
I wished to say so much about this light, wanted to make me understood
and do not know.
And now, poor me, I am in complete and total abandonment; I have nobody
for me either on earth or in Heaven. It's what I feel, but I trust that is not
reality.
Sentiments of the Soul, March 20, 1945
