Cranks are silver chain is gold
Revolving like pistons on Gurudeva’s drive shaft
Taking me to darsana of Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari in their white silk satin trimmed in yellow gold with turban, capes and rhinestone crowns no finer reason for pedaling that I know
Leis of roses and petals substantial, fragrant and colorful
Glorification of this dress comes in from all across the universe
The gecko and I respect the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and head on for the southland. There is a class jogging but we weave in and out of the line to the lion’s park. The snob hill is empty but for the few raindrops. We laugh out loud through the empty village to wake the sleeping merchants with a living peddler’s cry. The opal cliffs are full of sufferers who try to take advantage of the waves in the storm. Between the lakes are people huddling together while we sprint by to the harbor. The bright road is full of beasts tied up along either side. We hammer to the natasala where people are lined up for the second show. The gecko and I take leave he to the shop and I to the peddler’s ramp. I continue to the soccer pitch and circumambulate to get to the wharf road and the main street. The long and winding pulls me back to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and I bow my head the kalarupa chases me up to the asrama. There I start the sandhya
In the ninth the Deities take this dress for celebrating Guru Maharaja’s appearance day. They had some fun playing with me this evening but soon they were in bed by the same time as every other night.