Poppa Purusa, he smiles, 'cause it's the Ekadasi day
“Anyone consuming rice today will be eligible to join in my play”
Ma Kali, her associates stand beside him her lei of skulls warns her worshipers what might become of them
The peacock blue of Gandharvika's skirt along with green offers the promise of a blissful life of service in the land of dedication. While the red ruffle displays the confidence of the servants in connection with their master and the fruits of a victorious campaign against maya shedding tears of ecstasy.
The orange of Mahaprabhu's pants show his fixation on his daring determination to give Krsna prema to one and all
Giridhari's dhoti yellow holds the highest mellow set off by the blue stars like the lighting in the dark blue sky. His cape holds the colors of the rainbow in awe.
The gecko and I charge to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and bow our heads. The main road takes us to the bridge over the first highway. Catching big air to the hospital curve and over the Saint Dagwood's river. We question with all logic the way we should go. Down the toad road or to the tennis park gently the answer comes at the stop sign. Forward to the tennis park and between the lakes at the soccer pitch, which is as usual, on the left the gecko takes his leave and I hammer to the long and winding. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa awaits and I fold my palms. The kalarupa gives chase as I try for the sandhya.
When in the height of love the best devotees asked everyone they could see if they had seen Krsna pass by. The trees and creepers along with the deer, does and bucks all entities. “O deer dough, have you seen Krsna?” they asked.