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.