Sitting on the simasana viewing those who've come with service intent
Red ring on his toes using some cloth from ancient times to make some new clothes
On Mahaprabhu's kirta there is a peacock
Gandarvika's sari of paper silk inspires all the devotees to talk
Leis of roses both whole and petal the time factor comes into play.
Oooo the rain just won't give up but then here that's winter for y'all. Manasa pedaling again but how much more? Just head on up to flowers on the top of the hill where the gnomes and fairies keep watch over all the plants and trees. Meandering there long enough to rest assured that spring time is on its way that personification calls me back for the sandhya and the sunset contemplation.
If you find yourself chasing a lion then you know it's Friday morning 'cause of the purple that dominates the color scheme. Tonight they've got different chodders since the stormy weather is keeping things a little warm inside but too wet for a dance under the moonlight.

Pink turban, peacock feather, purple waistcoat and effulgence to match
Gandharvika and Mahaprabhu in pink with touches of gold and green
The bhaktas come to see them just as much as they can 'cause they love to see how the seamstress designs the wardrobe for Purusotama.
Bamboo flute, ankle bells, toe rings why I'm sure she's thought of everything
The bhaktas come to see them just as often as they can that's the attraction of the supreme person
Big carnation leis sewn together in such an artistic and careful way
Just one more reason for all the bhaktas to come to see Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari to their full satisfaction on this and every Wednesday.
Early morning pedaling today, the rain is at bay and the tree is there to accept respect. On to the main road and past the market where the day laborers wait for jobs tools in hand to show they're ready. Mahamuni's post box is the first stop to collect the post and post a bill or two. Through the village around the wharf through the beach side hotels and then the opal cliffs. All along the coast a few brave sufferers are out. I see a pedaler in my mirror that has a suffering board attached to his set of wheels. Next it's between the lakes to the redone road to the theater that waits silently for next week. The gecko is happy to see all of us pedaling by and smiles and waves. Quietly through the triangle and down to the harbor then past the tennis park and on to the long and winding past the tree that reminds me it's already time for the vaikalika. Back home back to the asrama where the Deities wait for me to wake them.
“O deer dough, have you seen Krsna?” The green and silver and as they go through the forest they approach each creature, vine and plant asking if Krsna may have passed that way. This evening with more rain in the sky he has stayed in to perform his pastimes inside.

Hey! Look! It's Sue Nila Vasana, a name that means beautifully blue, and yes they change their clothes twice a day so each time you see them they're wearing something new
Gandharivka's sari came from Mahamuni
Traditional colors it's true
Giridhari has his yellow trimmed in purple
While it's mango with green for Mahaprabhu
“I make Mahaprabhu's lei first” the maker said, “Today they look like candy canes, you'll see it with the next one it's really striped” she went on to say and yes they do look like candy canes and just seem to fit with the dress.
The rain is back today and so it's back to the trails of the manasic type. Still it's time to rise to the reveille horn how ever possible. Pedaling my young boy's passion and my rainy day's dream remembering the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and praying for daylight's gleam. The vaikalika service keeps calling back even when I want to continue, my ride says “keep on pedaling murki, keep on pedaling murki”
Pralad-a-dad this evening. “Don't even try and tell me you don't know what crown Giridhari was wearing today Om Paramahamsa Thakura” “well I don't” “How is it possible?” These are the exciting moods of Krsna katha experienced this evening. As the fire keeps Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari warm the chodders are a bit looser tonight. The rain is still coming and we all wonder when will it end?

Color combinations come from unexpected places
Combinations can come from the youngest faces
Designs are very similar
A new angle of something very familiar
Even watching as the children play
Inspiration can come from what they say
“old” viddhi bhakti just can’t produce the sakti
found in a Vrajavasi’s bhakti
Hey, wow! Did you see that? The sun came out today just like that! The tree saluted back as I headed to the main road and wound down around the opal cliff hooked around the point and went to the redone road. The theater is quiet ‘till next week but the gecko is there today and smiling big to see the sun even if it’s just for today. The triangle lets me through to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot and the harbor between the lakes east cliff has white waves that keep the sufferers away. The big road takes me once again back to the winding one where the tree grins as I fold my hands and hold them high as I pass on my way to the vaikalika service
Where the Ganga doesn’t flow is called the Radhadesa and the temples there are all painted a shade sometimes sold as ‘heavenly cloud’ but we all call it baby blue. The raindrops were falling just as I returned and so the night is still a bit damp but Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari are engaged in their pastimes with unlimited happiness.

The embroidery between the smooth white satin relates the texture of the dress
A touch of gold brocade makes space between the focus shapes stand out on their own
Offered on vyasa puja in presence of his divine grace
The curtain opened revealing to the entire human race
As the devotees smiled, danced and chanted feeling called across the universe
While he viewed in silence from his vyasasana
The dress and heard the offerings of love
They experienced it all with shouts of 'jaya gurudeva' between each speech
Manasa pedaling through the rain again and yet again even the rath-bhojana-vrksa is powerless to stop the drops that fall like some kind of ancient torture. The nowhere pedaler slips me through the velvet green. That place where the poets fancy makes the pedalers dream how the touch of dead man's left hand can change the milk into cream. Ahh but these visions come to an end it's time for the vaikalika once again.
Again in the nightdress there are flowers embroidered on the red Chinese silk the cream is smooth as milk. From the twilight celebration, where the lotus nails provide the touch that kills.

A merry band of ‘genies’ moved into the Bowes’ house bringing their tangerine and off beat karatals offered a big feast while brees ran a wet bar talking of Goloka and chanting with Nyasi they saw Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari wearing their "I'm a lot of wild, I'm a sumanas child" dress with leis of roses, petals, leaves while a couple of whole flowers turned their faces outward.
A break in the rain for a little while today and I thanked the tree pedaling down for to see how the gecko had made it through the storm just before it returned. He smiled saying it had been rough. Slipping through the eastside triangle to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot and back down to the Saint Dagwood’s creek around the tennis park and between the lakes, the hook and the point up the big road and the long and winding welcomes me home and the ratha-bhojana-vrksa says “quickly quickly, it’s time for the sandhya!”
Rain returns as they slip into their ‘most blessed event’ nightdress and get ready for their nighttime pastimes. Even though it feels a little warm they still want their chodders.

The devotees all came for kirtan on the Monterey Bay chanting mahamantra and dancing
In the vision of the smooth dancing actor himself
Taking up a blue flower and placing it over his left ear
Gracefully dancing across the stage with Gandharvika whose skirt is as polished up brilliant as thousands of mirror
Gurudeva would also visit now and then pulling souls out of maya.
“Catch us in your glance “the devotees all would pray “use us in your mission and take us all back home”
Leis of stock and roses today long and flowing with their bodies’ curves beautified by their every swirl
I must certainly be strange ‘cause faces are beginning to come out of the rain. But then they all remember my name. Rath-bhojana-vrksa still makes impressions deep in my mind. It comes out of the other trees by that side of the road and stands there. Like the mermaids on the rocks near the shore it waits for unsuspecting cars to devoure. Pedalers in full rain gear if they’re out at all today. Most, like me, are looking for the scent of wild roses where the weather veins hold raindrops at bay. The vaikalika service awaits and I come back through the muddy tent to dress them for the afternoon.
The only safe place for Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari is deep within the far off jungle where they can happily take rest tonight.

Hey Murka! When you dress Gandharvika she looks to fashionably lean
Of course Giridhari is fashionably late
But she won’t miss the opportunity for service and make him wait
Quite the contrary she’ll be there with bells on
Not so with the leis though
Late enough that Mahaprabhu’s hair is like the wind is on the blow
The tree sends me on my way as usual today past the florist and the hospital curve. Around Saint Dagwood’s creek and the redone road. Just for an extra kick today out to where there’s a fish hook around and back for the morning star. After hearing I should continue on along the coast I just went back the usual harbor and between the lakes and the windmill. Then the east cliff and the other hook, by the point this one is. Then the soccer pitch and the fruit market and the main road takes me home past the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and the sandhya awaits.
A lion on the chase tonight but the rain just won’t stay away enough to allow any outside activity. Inside they go on dancing all night long

Ah, the joy of Mahaprabhu abounds
When the devotees chant and make loud humming sounds
The beginning of krsna bhakti
The Swirling dancing that they feel
As they approach something real
This outfit brings such things to mind
As Giridhari’s jacket and chodder float on the breeze with Gandharvika’s veil being shorter than most in the tradition of another society where veils similarly lift to form a tent of her twenty-five top most qualities above her head.
Pedaling each day keeps the puggal at bay. The tree is there for respecting and on to the main road. Good king Midas lets me pass as well as the florist and I go on happily. Swinging to the left over the Saint Dagwood’s creek to the tennis park I get on the redone road. The theater is dark this evening no one is performing there. The gecko shakes his head and says, “you still need to nurse your cold” so I slink away through the triangle and go by the house where choc-o-lot talks-a-lot. The boats in the harbor are mostly tethered due to the stormy weather but they seem to call me to pass by on my way to the vaikalika service. The east cliff and the point of the hook send me down the big road which carries me to the long and winding one to check in with the tree that sends me to the asrama.
With his lotus nails, Nrsinghadeva finished off Hiranyakasipu. This night dress was offered for that day and tonight with the rain still coming down Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari dress up in it to ride the storm out.

Chinese silk, diamonds and rubies the finest oils, incense and peppermint, Shakespearian speech, residence in the plane of Kurvera unlimited opulences are of no use now seeing Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari in the true value of a silk turban.
Sickness can surely make you pedal on trails you don't very often go. First there is of course the ratha-bhojana-vrksa then on down the road to the main road. Our uncle is standing by the road side waving at all the passers. I wave back and he smiles. On the bridge over the under construction highway I nearly get squeezed through the guard rail but recover enough to head up to the rainy festival and enter into the world of peaceful music. A left-handed guitarist is pointing to the sky as he sings some words misunderstood by a select few. I see own self-misspending my youth pedaling on a butterfly. That self can't know that it I am he who am the roadie looking across the decades at him. Then from nowhere in particular a dog howls and I pedal instantly through some several years to the place I was before and meet the gecko who says I should be in bed nursing my cold and as such I rise to the occasion of the vaikalika service.
Avast me hardies! That's Vamsi dasa babji Maharaja a coming up the road there on his horse of a different color entering the Marakata Mani Puri and shiver me timbers he's talking like a pirate. Bhakta Blade took the reigns this evening but it wasn't his best night. His mad skills were mad tonight. But I'm sure he'll recover come the morning and he'll be his old self again. In the mean time Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari go on enjoying like anything all night long.

Upon returning from the forest one day
Where Krsna had learned dancing from a peacock he took a bright feather and put it in his hair. Today he has feathers in his hair, he’s got feathers everywhere, and he likes the peacock’s feathers
Leis of rose petals and whole ones too, much like yesterday oh the mother and child combination is like no other on earth.
The rain today took me up to a land so far away in the hills above Albany on the notes of a Indian bamboo flute flowing into a field where there stands an iron bell that called me back home to listen to the rain and for the sandhya service
Learn to play the mrdunga in the traditional way get in touch with the inner fulfillment and call this one baby blue. Their pastimes are performed with happiness.

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Now if, upon on further review, a feared snake turns out just to be a rope
It could bring the wonder if I were just a dope
And if today parsley and sage are found to be pasture media time
It could bring out the need to examine my mind
But just make the change, raise the curtain, know within reality is on it's own plane.
Leis of rose petals and whole carnations centers of gerbera daisies once again.
The ratha-bhojana-vrksa helped to keep the rain at bay today, well at least for a while. As it began and the chill factor set in it forced an inside the park run. The carrot and the stick once again today that allowed my mind to drift along the nine islands. Nityananda told many of Mahaprabhu's wonderful pastimes there to “Jiva”. Pedaling along hearing of them my mind went there and visualized those places. Then the time for the sandhya arrived and I was called back across the universe for the service.
It was a hot time in the temple tonight. Someone built a fire around four thirty and so by the end of the evening the heat was still high. One of the folks exclaimed “IT'S TOO HOT IN HERE” but that did no good, the room didn't cool down and the Deities put on their in the ninth dress and enjoy their pastimes in full happiness.

The rust and avocado shapes dance upon the rich beige silk and the chiffon chodders and sash slowly trips. Big and floppy effulgence serve as the backdrop for their day’s pastimes. Leis with closed stargazer lilies in the centers the rusty trim ties it all in. The dark and fair forms beautify the necklaces and the dress too rounding out the sannyasa smaranam of Mahaprabhu.
In and around the fruit market pedalers are in their basic training gear. There’s one out just for fun flags and festoons in the breeze keeping maya on the run. One pedals by and gives me a wave, wow how the magic happens with the appearance of the sun. But down by the sufferers hang out only the driftwood answers the clear call of the sea, since the chill has set in. The sun going down summons me back for the sandhya to be ringing in the night.
The most blessed event is how they go on enjoying like anything never mind the weather, number of folks or their happiness or lack of it.

I once knew a queen back in the days of old
But I don’t know if you could say she knew me
Roy G. Biv is present in this outfit and that makes it good for Ekadasi
“What kind of flowers are those white ones?” one of the folks asked me today “Narcissus” I answered “there is also purple hyacinth and the most interesting shade of rust roses too. “ Some of the narcissus and the roses face the world. “These leis are magnificent” “Yes” I agreed.
This morning when they awoke we were alone I offering incense of sandalwood
After offering the tree I pedaled on to wharf road where a shot rang out. I didn’t know if it was aimed at me or it was a mistake or if it were thought to scare me would be a conversation maker? Anyway from there I went on to tell the gecko about it. He was ready to take some names but I had slipped into the west side triangle and off to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot. Down to the harbor taking the left between the lakes and the windmill right at the cove and on to the point of the hook. Circling the fruit market and the soccer pitch a long way to the basketball park and the toad. Rounding the tennis park to the main road. Left behind the hospital and then one of the florists. The long and winding waits along with the tree from there it’s the drive and on to the vaikalika service.
Deep within the far off jungle tonight with the chill outside it’ll be an insider tonight while they happily enjoy their pastimes.

A realized sage could call you from the depths of your fleshy cage
And reorder your life to the transcendental grace
And uncover your golden service form with the kirtan from Navadvipa
Then taste the fruit of that sacrifice losing all material conception
As a dew drop on the lotus leaf surrounded by water but not of the water
Now that you find that you are whole
Follow the angles to that plain back to home
Off to respect the tree and then to the morning star and watch it rise overhead. Having seen the stars I get on the path back to the asrama. Some pedalers are in wintry gear and others are in full on racing shorts. The chill sets in as the sun goes down but racing the sun once again around the east cliff where the sufferers are talking about the good old summer days. Still I go on to wharf road down to the main road and then the long and winding where the tree welcomes me back and allows me to go on for the sandhya.
It's a miracle mom that this one ever was finished in time. The chill in the air keeps them inside tonight still they enjoy their pastimes unlimitedly

The aruna hara posse rides again over to the asrama of the swami who wears the turban
You know Kesava Bharati who can give the saffron cloth
He’s got a danda and Mahaprabhu is ready for sannyasa mantra line
Ten syllables of the most potent kind
His head was shaved, the people raved
He told the guru he had had dream
Him receiving the mantra was what he’d seen
“Is that the one?” he asked, “Yes that’s it! It rises in my heart like cream!”
Who initiated whom? Some say the swami crossed over that day, he changed from Mayavadi to vaisnava Mahaprabhu’s mercy
Absorbed in ecstasy, Mahaprabhu didn’t know if it was day or night, looking for the way to Vrndavan and asking everyone in sight
When asked some cowherd boys down on the Ganges bank they played a little prank
Then Advaita Acarya on a boat brought him back
Sri tree is carving out pedaling trails deep in the tissues of my mind. Rob a bank dares all who come as I pedal by on the way to the gecko. The bridge over Saint Dagwood’s river and I go on to the tennis park right on the redone road to the theater that’s lit up again for another show. The gecko doesn’t know what one it is but he’s not concerned as long as I keep pedaling it keeps him happy. Sprinting through the west side triangle to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot around the harbor between the lakes the foghorn sounds. The beach folks are enjoying their bon fires in spite of the chill. Then it’s time for to get back for the sandhya the wharf road to the long and winding one where the tree waits to welcome me back and send me quickly on my way.
One of the folks said to me today “chanting rounds late last night I saw three flashes of light. I waited for the fourth but it didn’t come.” So I said “Prabhu, Prabhu calm down, what was in the curd pakoras you ate?” “They must be dancing, just come to mangala arati and see the Lotus nails dress and let that put your doubts to rest”

January 15
Appearing Live here at the asrama, the arena of pure consciousness “Syama, Nila and Aruna” Featuring hyacinth leis combine with roses and gerbera daisies both fragrant and transcendental.
Last year on Guru Maharaja’s appearance day the seamstress named the band this way
But now he seems distant and far away
Now all of Navadvipa is vacant he used to say
For Mahaprabhu has swam across the Ganga to take sannyasa today
It started off slowly today, I just can’t do it I thought. But as I looked over the sunny sky I wondered why am I just sitting here thinking I should get out and race with the light. So I got on and pedaled to see the tree where I got the inspiration to go on around to the gecko who was so happy to see me not many have been stopping to talk circling around and back to the harbor taking the left at the tennis park
On cowboy, on cannibal, on Spaniard and villain right at the flower market and over the bridge through the heliport lot and the circuit building back to the main road and then the long and winding thanking the tree for this inner fulfillment and I see Mahamuni go past me and wave. Another of the folks who follows behind him sounds his horn as he sees that it’s me. I come to the asrama and pick up the flowers to offer for sandhya and chase the darkness away.
O come dress us up quickly their Lordships are calling their Pralad-a-dad outfit is what they wear tonight. Early to bed and early to rise makes them healthily happy their spirits in the skies.

Monday is red and Friday is purple
Today they have Monday’s red
but they’ve a little Friday in mind
It peaks through in Mahaprabhu’s dhoti, Giridhari’s chodder and Gandharvika’s skirt
The leis of roses both petal and whole sized like the necklaces they won’t stop the free flowing pastimes.
Off to see Garuda bowing to the tree along the way to “downtown” there is a flower shop where one of the folks stands looking. The whalers are detailing cars as I go by and trainers are out in their colorful windbreakers and booties over their shoes. At the post office the way is unusually clear and the triangle is not trying to consume me as I try with all the stealth at my command to get through. Over the Saint Dagwood and into the heart of downtown where the sentence fragments congregate just waiting to be considered for revision. The sloka slinger in training once told me of a man there dressed in pink complete with parasol who slowly walks up and down the street all day. ‘Till today I hadn’t seen him but he is outside of the shop where I meet Garuda. On the way back for the vaikalika the gecko calls out “right on”. Next the fruit market calls out and I respond. Under the lights now Mahamuni passes me on his way to meet with one of the folks at his business. Circling the trader I return for the sandhya after folding my palms as the tree comes into view.
They’ve got many names for the holy places in India, the Deity outfits have names too they call east Bengal the Radhadesa, call this one baby blue. A foggy evening a little chill and a little damp but still and all Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari go on enjoying like anything and dancing all night long.

Heavenly cloud shade of blue
Trimmed by rich red sequins,
back drop of cream and red too.
Offered for a day I don’t remember now
The folks standing before the curtain waiting
for Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari to appear and take their bow
At the sight they wanted to get up and scream
‘Twas like the reflection of a dream
Silver ankle bells, flute and crowns
They weren’t missing a single thing like a saucy little Travis
Pedaling away from the asrama down that long and winding past the farm and the horses
Offer respect to the rath-bhojana-vrksa of course one pedaled behind me thought sure to catch but too much of a stretch
The heliport is on the right and then the cemetery comes in to view rise pedaling fast as necessary to make the light on to king Midas’ garage. Round the curve there is a fully loaded tourist panniers, rain coat, and trailer a real purist. Going on to the redone road to the theater whose next performance is Wednesday. Greeting the gecko crossing the bridge over Saint Dagwood’s river. Where I chanced on one of the folks who is bound for glory. He spared some change and gave protection from the wild ones.
Homeward bound and the gecko winks a smile
If not so late I’d take his invite to talk awhile
“You can do it!” he says “beat the sundown home and not have to go under the light”
It spurs me on through the harbor between the lakes and hooking around the point. Then keeping the soccer pitch on the right
My pace quickens trying to out run night
Whose purple shade is coming down to cover the day’s last light. Wharf road pulls me faster almost sandhya, time to meet the master
The tree is there holding twilight at bay.
As I come to the drive way assuredly down comes the night.
Creamy white and deep red Chinese silk offered on Nrsinghacaturdasi and that’s the touch that kills. A rare evening when the backdrop from the day dress will stand behind the nightdress too. Or take what I say in a different way and it’s easy to say I’m just lazy.

Once upon a time in a land so far away that to go there took many a day
And they only way to travel there was by dragonfly.
Everything there has a feeling of lighter than air like a watercolor.
Even the clouds in the sky of brilliant blue swirl like cotton candy.
Leis of roses, daisies, iris, and tulips and after arriving on snap dragons.
Hugging the side of the long and winding while folks place trust in blind curves as they over take. I pray to the tree to keep me out of their path.
The trainers are bundled up like those in the iddarod. The errand makers pedaled bravely in their winter coats and the west side triangle didn’t have time to gobble them up. The harbor is quiet but not empty between the lakes only joggers the windmill boasts hot drinks and the cove is inviting the sun to return. The vaikalika and sandhya call me back soon as my pedals will carry me. Sprinting down the wharf road and offering “all glories” to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa I speed along on the last ray of the not so sunny day.
The most blessed event this evening sees Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari set for more of their night pastimes chodders on under the starry starry sky with a hint of winter in the air.

While there’s not a place the puckawalla hasn’t gone, from Hydrabad to Vrndavana
Our gang has only been to places at a distance of three hundred paces
But this outfit of orange and brown
Must surely break that down
Coupled with the yellow and red rose, two orange roses showing their faces ‘cause no other flowers could take their place, a few mums petal and leaf leis plus the new effulgence in honor of the Jiva Goswami tirobhava mahotsava this outfit soars to another level.
The pedaler’s spirits are also soaring today. On this the third day without rain to speak of they’re out in a happy mood respecting the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and the road. The wharf road leads on to the opal cliff. The joggers are on the left coming toward me as I pedal along. Between the lakes there are no sufferers or even joggers. The public radio goes on to the redone road. The theater is lit up since a doctor is going to explain the toxic world. The gecko isn’t going to listen but he still gives me a pound as I pedal by. The school is back in session and the students are on their way home as me and four fellow pedalers pass by. The west side triangle lets me go without comment. I speed along passing a line of three in training I tell them I’m on my way to the sandhya and they smile and nod. Returning I sing with joy as I pass the tree and cry out loud “Jayho!” then the arati awaits where even the president of the United States has to lay prostrate.
The clear night invites Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari to come out and enjoy their pastimes deep within the far off jungle. Chodders over the white and flower pattern with green and red trims keep them warm on this chilly night.

As he sat with a spiritual brother, Guru Maharaja spoke in Bengali. As he was making one point he came to a place where an English phrase worked best “Die to Live”. One of the sutras he used often. This outfit has olive and yellow Chinese silk. The yellow with a pattern that caused one of the folks to look for a very long time, the olive has a flower pattern. One of the folks became absorbed in the yellow. He asked me about the pattern on Giridhari’s kirta and then I pointed out that it’s on Mahaprabhu’s also and Gandharvika’s choli and in the reverse eyelets.
The rose and petal leis swirl with Their dancing forms and point up their curves.
Pedaling from the asrama around the long and winding bowing to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa, sprinting to the main road. Left there to the wharf then the opal cliff. Left at the point in weaving through the joggers, lovers and sufferers. Left again at the sunny cove between the lakes to the redone road. Walkers strolling along next to the boardwalk break my rythum but somehow I still pass by the skateboarders up the bridge left at the bridge down into the town to see the stars rise. After that little observation i went under the lights around the picture of Albert. Then back to the gecko the west side triangle caught me long enough to send me around for a second time. Next i broke theough and went down to the harbor. By the windmill to the east cliff left on the road of the grange hall. Right past the ghostlike pedalers not under the lights. Around the soccer pitch and then to the trader's. Back to the main road and up for the sandhya once again.
While taking darsan two of the folks spoke among themselves and one told one of the stories of this night dress. He said "Krsna is a brahmacari" i added "Durvasa Muni didn't eat anything" that prompted the story. And with that they dance, take prasadam and later take their rest on a bed decorated with aromatic flowers that are truly out of this world.

Mahaprabhu, superstar it’s impossible to hide who you really are
Sending your representatives to reach every nation and take advantage of our mass communication
Hari Nama sankirtan the anchor of your divine plan to attract all people in every corner of every land
Your loving search to find where your lost servants are using your ecstatic pastimes as your best p.r.
No rain no rain ran through my mind today as I past the ratha-bhojana-vrksa. In the morning going left at the main road and to the wharf road. Pedalers out in the dry to complete their training routes and errands. The wharf road takes me to the fruit market and back for the madyakalia offering. Then the afternoon sees me again offering respect to the tree as I go right this time down to see the gecko. He’s got time to wave and call out “Pedal strong”. Around through the triangle to the jazzersize road and the harbor then left to the tennis park. From there to the main road and the long and winding where the tree welcomes me back for the vaikalika service.
O deer dough, have you seen Krsna? that's tonight's dress. Green and silver. With the skies outside clear the cool night keeps them inside this evening, not a good night for a dance outside in the moonlight.

Yellow and black onyx when the moon begins its new phase
Yellow, black trim and onyx makes the folk’s spirit’s rise
The honeybees have named it madhuvrata
Full rose leis today with saffron ones in Giridhari’s showing their full face to the world an unbeatable combination. Beautified by their dancing, curving forms on this new moon day.
The honeybees have named it madhuvrata.
Oohhh the rain is back today! And who will offer respects to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa as i engage in the manasa pedaling? Perhaps those dogs and cats will take it up while they cut deep into my mind though they’ll never cut deep as the rain. Over the ocean like a stone manasa pedaling takes me to hear the story of another transcendental honeybee, who called for his bugle horn and his cowboy friends. Together they set out to search for reality the beautiful. As I heard their adventures the kala rupa had done it’s work and brought me back to the sandhya.
This evening while Vamsi dasa babji came riding into Marakata Mani Puri on a horse of a different color and talking like a pirate, Bhakta Blade sliced his finger, which slowed his reach into his bag of tricks. Why even his speech was a bit effected when he told me he was “just a hotch skop and a jump” away from Giridhari’s belt. In the mean time Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika along with Giridhari go on enjoying like anything.

On the twenty-eighth of March in ninety-nine, Gaura Purnima, an ecstatic time
This outfit was offered for the celebration when the folks saw it they made a tumultuous vibration
“Call me when he opens the curtain” the flying v said to his friend. “So I can light the 108 wicks darkness to dispel spread the shinning light of Mahaprabhu to enlighten the hearts of all”
The velvet cloth makes them wait till the winter to wear it often and the chill in the air made it a perfect day.
Petals and roses in the leis, nice light and circumference correct Guru Maharaja instructed to make them this way.
Well glory be! The sun came out today! I was so happy to offer respect to the tree as I went by that I took both hands off the handlebar at once. Then on to the main road and to the post office through the village and by the wharf along opal cliff to the fruit market for the vaikalika offering The gecko was almost overjoyed to see me pedal by and waved wildly as I passed. (Now isn't that a ridiculously long sentence? But sri grammarian calls it a fragment if I break it any where else) The shoppers have all deserted their corner and left only the Cruiser King to watch over the passers by. The west side triangle threatens to gobble me up but I dodge it with the help of one of the local dogs who is on his way to be washed. Then by the harbor and between the lakes I go through the cove and the side pedaler's road to the wharf road and back up the long and winding. The tree looks as if to say that the rain will return tomorrow but I thank it for looking over me on this one any way. The sandhya waits as I pedal up the driveway.
Learn to sing the prema dhama strotram condense Mahaprabhu's pastimes thick and sweet, the call east Bengal the Radhadesa, call this baby blue. With the clear night they'll be dancing as long as they can.