I, the Lord, wish that you love in joy, without sorrow, that every day you slip what does not belong to me with lightness and sobriety.

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Above all love
A hidden inheritance

of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica

→ Now every piece of your life is crushed, you live a life broken by hate, falsity, seduction, vanity, by that world which makes you living as prisoners and not as children.

→ I, the Lord, wish that you love in joy, without sorrow, that every day you slip what does not belong to me with lightness and sobriety.

→ The world and the flesh live and feed themselves of this fragility and weakness of every man, and succeed to drag my children in a poverty which insists overbearingly in your life until crush and make tottering your existence in something of nonexistent, in a poverty which has relation with the anger, the disappointment and every kind of illness and vanity.

→ When I see you in your weakness, in your pain, in the life that passes, that drags in the pain, I tell to leave every noise, every deception, the world and the flesh.

→ Do not look to the world, to poverty, but to me, to the father and to the wealth that I am.

→ I am not poverty.

→ My sons can watch me, watch the world, themselves, recognize the difference between myself and the world, between me and them and between them and the world.

→ Recognizing their poverty in the world, they understand well that the world deceives them and makes them do things that are not theirs.

→ The world conditions my children, creates for my children what seduces them and what will fall down with the being of my children.

→ Do not love the illusion.

→ Getting away from the father means appropriating of what is not of my son and to leave to the world what is of my son.

→ From every child, from every ruin of my child I build things that are not of the world, that are extraordinary events.

Recurrences in the text

→ Now every piece of your life is crushed, you live a life broken by hate, falsity, seduction, vanity, by that world which makes you living as prisoners and not as children.
→ I, the Lord, wish that you love in joy, without sorrow, that every day you slip what does not belong to me with lightness and sobriety.
→ The world and the flesh live and feed themselves of this fragility and weakness of every man, and succeed to drag my children in a poverty which insists overbearingly in your life until crush and make tottering your existence in something of nonexistent, in a poverty which has relation with the anger, the disappointment and every kind of illness and vanity.
→ When I see you in your weakness, in your pain, in the life that passes, that drags in the pain, I tell to leave every noise, every deception, the world and the flesh.
→ Do not look to the world, to poverty, but to me, to the father and to the wealth that I am.
→ I am not poverty.
→ My sons can watch me, watch the world, themselves, recognize the difference between myself and the world, between me and them and between them and the world.
→ Recognizing their poverty in the world, they understand well that the world deceives them and makes them do things that are not theirs.
→ The world conditions my children, creates for my children what seduces them and what will fall down with the being of my children.
→ Do not love the illusion.
→ Getting away from the father means appropriating of what is not of my son and to leave to the world what is of my son.
→ From every child, from every ruin of my child I build things that are not of the world, that are extraordinary events.