September 2
We’re waiting for the time when the mundane has no charm anymore
Kabe habe bolo se din amar?
Attachment hurts so bad sometimes it makes us cry out loud
Ami tu kangal krsna krsna bole
Voices of our guardians bringing us to new light
Revive our lives make our prospect bright
Krsna tomar hrdayer dhan tumi dileou dite para
Mahaprabhu in orange mango
Giridhari wears yellow
Gandharvika deep blue
Only gurudeva’s grace can let us catch the service mood
Leis of petals and roses that turn and face the world beautified by their golden, syama, and gaurangi forms
A quick sharp sprint offering respect to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa the toffee nose hides behind that tree and proudly takes his pen from his pocket slashes a green line under this sentence. Meeting the gecko in the southland we make a right onto the main road. Stopping to post a parcel off to TX. At speed to the snob hill and through the village to the opal cliff we go. The gecko shows the way along the bay to the point of the hook. Between the lakes the sufferers are smoking, the pelicans are joking and hair gas people wrestle with the question “why?” At the shop the gecko takes his leave. I round the corner and pass the cruiser kings reviewing stand. The dog wash is on my right as I dart to the pedaler’s ramp all the way to the wharf road. That leads on to the long and winding and on to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where I fold my palms and chase the kalarupa to the sandhya.
The orange Pralad-a-dad is this evening’s nightdress. The night is warm enough for a dance under the moonlight and Mahaprabhu gives a glance into the closed circle.