When the devotees came to the arena of the pure consciousness
They’re minds were peaceful and strong
To be seen by Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari on the amyavasya black trim, chodders and jewelry
Leis of wild flowers from around the town raising their hopes, replacing their frowns.
Rahta-bhojana-vrksa respect to thee I pedal by each day to meet the gecko. Today we cross over the main road into the southland. That’s where Mahamuni’s post box is there on the right. The snob hill leads to the florist. Several beasts at the top of the hill force us to click out. Turning to the wharf road we sprint to the opal cliff and see people on their tandems others on their fixed gears. Today we pass them all till we get to the end. At the natasala I have to take leave to pedaler’s ramp. There I cross Saint Dagwood’s creek and see the bear. Left back to the wharf road and then the long and winding one where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa waits while chastising the toffee nose and his green pen. I take the kalarupa and we shake the sandhya’s hand once again and blow my horn to call everyone in to see the ceremony begin.
The evening has cooled but the fog horn isn’t sounding. On their soft bed Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari dream to engage in deep pastimes throughout the night.