Chi Pulsation

Donald Shimodah, as the true Messiah,
rose and flew over the Sahara,
apparently to Kilimanjaro.
The heat blew up from somewhere beyond.
Directly into the face.
 
The chest remains as cold as it used to be.
Hunger for love.
Once again, the blood in the hardened veins is cold again.
It's so sad, it's so scary to be alone
overwhelmed with gloomy  thoughts.

It's unbearable to read human minds.

"Dear Doctor, what about those
who lie on your couches,
on crispy sheets of your predecessors Freud's and Jung's
Procrustean beds?
- Nothing new. Old stories that are retold again and again.
- 2D?
- I'm afraid to find their bodies actually flat.
- Don't be silly. Our brain will never let us see that.
- Even while taking some LSD?
- Sure.
They both cry and laugh.
Tears and laughter.
Catharsis.

The Cathars left our planet. This world is not for them.
The Bogomils hid in Islam.
The best of them are circling in Sufi dances.
And what should we do?
Nothing.
The best choice for here and now.
Let's listen to the Dalai Lama.
Let the Kundaliny snake climb up
Let's laugh non-stop until the burst of cry.
Do drink some new wine,
Do taste some bread just out of the oven.

Can you feel the Chi pulsation in the finger tips?