Our birthright is to be mistaken
Along with being completely confused
Each and every soul has been abused
I can’t find a friend who feels at home
Their schemes uprooted and slashed
To their very bones
And when the devotees talk of meeting
Gurudeva on the road they were traveling
They can’t imagine where they might be
If not for his mercy
‘cause their only prospect was dying
but he came and touched our souls
and smiled reassuringly
he said we be flying
and we’d be able to see
our insecurity floating away to sea
he came on a ship called the Jaladuta
he told us they never went to the moon
but gave us certainty in the service of
Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari
dressed in their ‘Miss America’ outfit
with their iris leis and roses that face the world
Twice before I respected the ratha-bhojana-vrksa I came upon tree surgeons who stopped me to extract some gaura katha and let me go onto the main road where I meet the gecko and we cross the bridge over the first highway. Then we take the left to the tennis park. Between the lakes the sufferers have gathered to speak of the waves. To the point of the hook we sprint to the natasala where the lights are dark tonight. We circle the school and sneak through the triangle. The dog wash allows us to escape to the redone road. The toad road rushes winding and us to the wharf raod and then the long. I take my leave and respect the ratha-bhojana-vrksa to take up with the kalarupa back to the sandhya. The surgeons have gone for the weekend and it’s smooth sailing.
Deep within the far off jungle the Deities dressed in the dark wanting to stealthily dance late into the night.