There must have been a touch of magic in the air ‘cause when we entered that Bengali mahal the watercolor dragonflies on their clothes began to float around.
The lotus flowers reached for they sky blossoming with rasa malai.
The leis so light Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari couldn’t even feel the weight and that made Guru Maharaja smile broadly from ear to ear.
Around the horn from Mahamuni’s post box laughing through the village sprinting the opal cliff and keeping pace on the point. The geese honk as I pass them under the windmill. Public radio announces a pledge as we gallop along to the redone road. The gecko joins in on the way to the railroad bridge and the nava patra. Bhakta Blade is on Hari nama as our peleton crosses under his window. A few brave sufferers have come out to the natural bridge and wave as we circle around and do it again. The triangle nearly swallows us but the gecko invokes his Pythagorean astral and we go free all the way back to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa who again accepts our respect. The vaikalika is waiting and on into the sandhya.
The most blessed event is the coming of spring and Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari sneak out to dance all night long.