The silver is for the Yamuna and Ganga brings the gold
Gandharvika has a star on her belt bright and bold.
Giridhari’s netting vest and chodder are right for the heat
Mahaprabhu’s sash with pearl valence accent the seamstress’ feat
Just where are the leis today, the question in my mind is lit,
“Haven’t seen them yet” is the only answer that I get
The clue comes from a deranged and mumbling talker, “over there, see? On top of the brilliant rays on the bay’s locker
The ratha-bhojana-vrksa gets respect today as I feel the cool has returned. The gecko and I take off from the main road passing Mahamuni’s post box. The snob hill is empty today. A couple of weeks ago there was a party in the village but today it’s quiet. We pass the wharf and are almost alone. Then a feast of friends taking the left from the opal cliff cuts a bunch of beasts who snarl. When that dies down we make the left onto the cliff. A few sufferers are coming from the beach while a couple of others are going to. We round the point of the hook and sprint between the lakes to the redone road. A tribute is going on at the natasala for a musician of some renown but neither of us know the name of. We go on into town and hear all the street performers and see all the pretty people walking and dancing down the street. Next we climb the hill and see one of the folks on his way to the Sunday service. In our pedaler’s vesa he doesn’t recognize us. He hops a big beast and we take the triangle to the harbor where the boats are out. The windmill has it’s live music happening and they are playing a song from somewhere back in our long agos. At the wharf road the gecko turns to take leave and I sprint to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa to fold my palms and shake the hands of the sandhya.
Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari put on one of their old nightdresses this evening red and blue with a little green. Offered for Guru Maharaja’s appearance day, the ninth day of waning moon in the month of kartik. They go on enjoying like anything with grace and happiness.