The moon has went dark again
With heart and halo snatched away
The remainder appeared today
Leis of asrama flowers sweet aroma
Light and fluffy play
Divine love has come to give itself to one and all
This is the special feature of the Iron Age
All along the long and winding rabbits keep the view while the gecko and I bow to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and sprint to the main street
Over the first highway and on to whalers through the triangle to Saint Dagwood’s park must have been 1000 pedestrians decorating their carriers for a parade and I don’t know if they even took notice of us pedaling by. Some looked like cats some like Mohawks others like floats of roses the gecko and I were happy but just couldn’t make that scene if you know what I mean. Circling the trader’s we headed for the corner and around to the reviewing stand. The Cruiser King had a crown on like he’d been to the park too. At the triangle we took leave and I went to the harbor and the gecko to the shop. Between the lakes the sufferers were there hoping for a weekend of waves. The soccer pitch is on the left as I make the wharf road. Under the highway there are a pair on a tandem that wink and wave. I have to hammer to the long and winding, fold my palms to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and drag the kalarupa to the sandhya
Wearing their yellow and gold silk nightdress, Hiranyakasipu, Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari takes rest on a soft bed decorated with the most transcendental flowers.
Come to dedication’s land take hold of Gurudeva’s hand
It isn’t far away and there the thakura’s all play on watercolor dragonflies.
The sight purifies our minds
Lets everybody find
Inner fulfillment!
Leis are late again, Giridhari taps his foot waiting, but they come and are so nice that it’s all-worthwhile and they overflow with loving devotion.
It’s a light and tumble journey from the asrama to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa. Sickness has taken me pedaling where I can’t usually go. But today I meet the gecko and we head to the southland for the cyberspace highway. Making the exit we go on to the lion’s park and through the village. The hook points to the cruisers there with the suffering boards and we respectfully pass them. Between the lakes they are reliving the wavy weekend. We hit the redone road and find the other world tour is on it’s way to the natasala. Rounding the corner the Cruiser King has closed his doors I think he’s in a parade. At the triangle we take leave once again and I fly down the peddler’s ramp to the bear. At the wharf road I go to the left and on to the long and winding where I meet a child of God headed for the asrama. He sounds his buffalo horn and whips his beast to get there in time. I just pedal a little faster and hope that the sandhya will welcome me.
Guru Maharaja appeared in the ninth and this nightdress offered on that day is in the ninth. A quick dressing as they must have wanted to take rest early.
It was new outfit time once again
A suggestion was given to an illiterate fellow
The young girls said “Hey ms seamstress what will you make?
How about one that’s red and yellow?
Illiterate told the seamstress what he had heard
Ms seamstress looked through her cloth on hand
Enough was there to keep up with the strand
The young girls said “Hey ms seamstress what will you make?
How about one that’s red and yellow?
Not enough for Mahaprabhu or does he just prefer mango mellow?
SGM knows its true mango is the Mahaprabu’s color make it cello
The young girls said “Hey ms seamstress what will you make?
How about one that’s red and yellow?
When the curtain opened for the first time
It caused all the people to bellow
Hari bolo hari bolo
Today’s leis petals extending from the whole roses at the center
Made in exact and precise symmetry
Which is, so they say, beauty
From the asrama door to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa was a sprint
Where we bowed our heads as we went on to the southland and around to the main street over the first highway to the hospital curve to the toad road and on the parallel a left to the bear. The wharf leads on to the long an winding where we take leave today the gecko on to the shop and I fold my palms to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa once more and the kalarupa chimes in to remind me the hour is getting late. The sandhya is surprised to see me there with bells on.
It’s a world of names and Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari’s outfits are no exceptions, some call this one radhastami 2005 but I call it baby blue. This evening is another early one and so they dance into the night after lying down for a long moment.
This one was offered, my friend, two weeks from the day that never ends
Come on to the mandir come on to the mandir you just gotta see the Deities
And there around their necks are leis made of roses, stock and wild flowers
Mahaprabhu and Giridhari have toe ticklers while Gandharvika’s forms a heart
Silver mukuts and trim makes you want to see it again and again
You gotta see the Deities
Seamstress wants it to be known that the Radha’s sari is the color she chooses on her own
Bowing our heads at the ratha-bhojana-vrksa points the way to the cyber superhighway exiting back to the main street to the clank of the aluminum bat field left to the redone road where a fixed gear freak looks to be staring us down but is really just glaring at the beasts. The natasala has a show going on and the people are lined up out front. We take leave I go around to the triangle and the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot and on to the harbor. The boats are coming in as the sun is going down. A team of little peddlers stops the traffic between the lakes where the sufferers are huddled around a bon fire to fight off the cold. The wharf road takes me back to the main street where another fixed gear freak is making his turn on to the wharf road that I’m leaving. We salute and go on I to the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksas is watching as I fold my palms and the kalarupa follows me to the the sandhya while the fixed gear freak goes on to the soccer pitch. The sandhya welcomes me in and the horn blows.
Bhakta Blade gets an early start. Since Pralad-a-dad is the nightdress and Mahaprabhu had mango orange this morning he thinks that he’s already got Mahaprabhu in his nightclothes. A few seconds go by and he understands that the dress is still to be changed. All along Bhakta Blade doesn’t know what dress it is. He doesn’t know about the veil or what name it is. How can he be made into a divine slave?

this Gaura Purnima outfit was planned for no sleeves
but the new spring was a lot wild too cold for that
to let the people see that Mahaprabhu and Giridhari
sumanas types. Giridhari with the sandalwood flower on his left arm
Mahaprabhu with the leis on his chest
Instead the new york fabric backdrop popped the yellow dress with blue trim so bold that the people love it! They love it for now and for always.
Lies so late today they came after the nap and toppled the peacock feather and messed with the hairdresser hmmm
The rescuer made them so nicely with roses and lilacs that smelled ever so lovely without the maker there’d be no such beauty.
From the asrama to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa the young rabbits hopped away and I bowed to offer respect on the instruction of Gurudeva. Into the southland joining in cyber space with folks all over and in the real world the gecko and I went around the village laughing all the way to the point of the hook seeing so many seasoned citizen peddlers where did they come from? The natalsala is showing a film from a far off land and at the shop we take leave and I go through the triangle past the harbor and between the lakes with the first hot day of spring the bon fires are put out. The sufferers are all chasing the next wave and the windmill is spinning. The soccer pitch Is on the left while the wharf road takes me to the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa is watching me fold my palms and the kalarupa has come to pull me to the sandhya and hand me a new water bottle.
The touch of the lotus feet of Sri Giridhari’s holy name on our tongues will kill all desire for fruit hunting activity and this creamy red and soft milky white satin will give us the darsana that leads to that lolyim while they dance all night enjoying like anything.
Have you seen the jeweled arms? On this Ekadasi it’s so warm
Have you seen the jeweled arms? They’re dressed in every color of the rainbow along with peacock crowns with effulgence too.
Leis are wilting fast in the heat; the lights are low to keep them cool
The gecko and I are on the way to Mahamuni’s post box in preparation for his return. Then the lion’s park to the campa hatti down to the navapatra One beast trumpets once, twice and three times but I don’t change my demeanor back around the trader’s and the frontage road back to the first highway around the southland across the main street to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where the usual kalarupa to the sandhya
Oh the tirtha sahasra nama comes along and this one’s baby blue. The cool of the evening has them ready for dancing under the moon for the rest of the night.
The hot temperature is still around
Wonder when it will come down
First look at the dress today and the devotees cry
Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari ki jaya!
Leis from flowers collected at the asrama
Roses, periwinkle, jasmine and buttercups just to name some
Come for darsana, quick come see
It’s so hot that pujari put a vest on me!
Bow to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and meet the gecko in the southland and made the left on to the main street. Over the first highway to the clank of the aluminum bat field The whalers are inside beating the heat while the triangle comes up slipping past the beasts around the natasala waiting for the show over the corner to the Saint Dagwood’s park and on to celebrate the leaping monque’s birthday all the devotees are glad to see us one comes forward and asks “guess how I got here!” “you pedaled in to huh?””yes!” after a little time cheering him we turn around and circle the traders back to the corner where we take leave the reviewing stand is in full operation and back through the triangle a couple of peddlers ahead weave around the lane with the beasts on the right so tight we can’t get around so we escape down the redone road to the campa hatti and on to the southland and across the main street to the long and winding fold my palms at the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and the kalarupa has to carry me back for the sandhya cause I feel like I don’t have any legs today
So riding on that horse of the different color the baba enters Marakamani Puri talking like a pirate and the thakuras play in their evening pastimes with grace and happiness
Is the asrama in an energy crunch?
Does it seem like no one knows the date?
Are worried ‘cause the offering is just a little late?
And you’re looking for a way to speed it up?
Are the leis just too heavy today, being made of full fat roses?
Stretching from the neck down to their tosesß
Round the ratha-bhojana-vrksa to the southland and beyond to the lion’s park the village is there for laughing through and the point of the hook is full of cruisers with their suffering boards attached between the lakes the geese are there again to the harbor where the boats are out the natasala is resting for the next show and the gecko takes leave at the shop I go on around the corner to the reviewing stand and through the triangle back to the redone road where the tennis park is on the right along the toad’s road the folks are running errands and some kids are playing student the soccer pitch is on the right and I go on to the wharf road to the main street and the long and winding the ratha-bhojana-vrksa is waiting as I fold my palms and the kalarupa is still having to drag me to the sandhya
The lotus nails are out tonight as the nightdress. Cool has returned to the evenings but that seems to be a relief as they engage in their night pastimes.
At the temple door a swan carrier arrives full of flower petals and angels. One of them in filigree chodder smiles with each word a song and invites us to follow the angels for the darsana of Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari.
Just as I could nod and take a step up dutthas showed the path they were traveling leading to the land of dedication. Now as we stumbled along we saw the large rose leis not quite as heavy as they were the day before yet they stayed in suspended animation until the evening.
Bow to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and sprint into the main street all the way to the whaler’s and on to the triangle. Looking carefully we pass through as the beasts are so packed they have no choice but to give way. There is a peddler with a large feather over the top of his head and the tail of a cat coming from the saddle. Very strange. At the Saint Dagwood’s park there is a whole congregation of people speaking of a day for the earth. Circling both the park and the trader’s we make it back to the corner where we take leave. The gecko to his shop and I to the triangle the harbor’s boats are out still and the sufferers are taking over the between the lakes area the windmill is spinning but no one is home along to the navapatra right there keeping the pitch on the right to the wharf road and the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees my folded palms the kalarupa races me to the sandhya
It’s a miracle mom, that i’m still allowed to engage in the service as they take rest in the cooler evening and I quietly shut the door and slip out to leave them to their nighttime activities.
On the night I was born, my brother stood guard to see no cats snuck in
Much later I listened as Guru Maharaja told me that Vrndavana is for shallow thinkers
Well I tell you I fell as if from the top of a tree
But he led me to the mercy of Mahaprabhu and I fell head over heels for that affection and mercy that he brought down
“I picked all these flowers before mangala arati,” the leis maker told me. “I could have picked them last night but I knew they wouldn’t be as fresh”
Ah yes by the end of the day they had wilted and were only a shadow of the selves they had been
Off into the great world of the memory bank. The gecko and I thought we might invest the afternoon there. As we went along the way there were a bunch of coyotes who were turning the compost into a feast fit for a…how could we know that the electric scooter ahead also held a dog in a basket praying for rain to remain at bay. So many cueing for pakoras in the prasadam hall as we passed on down to the Saint Dagwood’s park circling the park we were positively on front where the kernel of divine love danced in ecstasy saying “all of you kindly chant hari bol!” the public were amazed. We also circled the trader and then went to the corner where we took leave. I to the triangle and he to the shop the memory bank was full and our account was replenished.
Deep within the far off jungle, the nightdress from the appearance of Nrsimhadeva. They took rest a little late but they were dancing and dancing all night long.

This outfit has about 452 white pears, 1,357 seed beads and a bushel basket of sequin leaves. Yesiree Robert the seamstress counted each and every one of them and reported it to me. I told her that I didn’t understand why I needed all that information she said “shut up kid” and that’s exactly what I did there I shut my big mouth and planned how it might be used as evidence against me. It will all be revealed in time I’m sure. Pink turban and purple waist coat for Giridhari while Mahaprabhu and Gandharvika have pink with purple in the trim along with all those seed beads and sequin leaves. Leis of wild flowers that wilt by the end of the day but pack a punch of something to see in the morning
Off to the cyberspace seeing all the pretty people after the ratha-bhojana-vrksa the wind so strong it knocked down a tree near the dolby line still the gecko and I pedal on among the trailers and fried gear freaks alike. At the point of the hook there is peddler with the most saddle bags I’ve ever seen on one dui cakra tatha. The bon fires are again started between the lakes. We came upon a pixie listening to a raga from years gone by I asked why, “it’s store policy” the answer came.
Bhakta blade asked me to lead the evening prayer and I hacked my way through it coughing all the way. The o dear doe night dress saw the fresh wind that blows against the structure this evening. Bhakta Blade wonders why the temperature is colder now than the winter months and the fifteenth or April has descended upon us.
Accept the present of Hari nama sankirtan as Mahaprabhu’s party moves along while the full moon over Nadiya speads is cooling rays and benedicts all with prema from beyond
Come for darsana of the thakuras in their silver and gold
With Gandharvika’s belt hanging from the side of her left thigh
Leis of fresh roses so wonderful , fragrant showing their faces to the world
In the evening the spring day sees them in their gold and soft bed in gold and yellow silk nightdress from Nrsimha caturdasi. Dressed early for a night of unbelievable pastimes

The time for the yuga avatar was coming up slowly
Giridhari thinks “I haven’t given devotional service in a long time”
He has his loving devotees, they engage in wonderful pastimes,
He has unparalleled beauty, he plays his flute
He decides to come to Earth.
Gandharvika has a dream of his ecstatic dancing making him roll on the ground. She says “I know you, you know me, one thing for sure I just can’t let this be”
We’ll come together, you and me
Here is Giridhari in yellow dhoti
Along comes Gandharvika in her blue sari
Come together to make Mahaprabhu’s green dhoti
Here are Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari with their rose and hyacinth leis following the curves in their bodies
Mahaprabhu, Gandharvika and Giridhari are transcendental three
Inviting all to associate through serving mood
The gecko and I went to the southland chasing the cyber space highway. Around the point of the hook between the lakes where some folks were trying to start fires to keep warm. The boats are out today in the wind and the bright sunshine. The natasala is ready for the next big show. At the shop we take leave and I head to the peddler’s ramp along there the soccer pitch is on the right. At the wharf road I take the left and get down under the highway. The long and winding calls me back to fold my palms to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and follow the sandhya to the asrama.
Deep within the far off jungle is the nightdress. It’s a chilly night for april 9, 2009 so they dance all night right here on the simhasana
Returning from the fields the cows raise the dust into a whirlwind decorating all around making them look so fine
That’s pasture media time
Pink and white with a hint of silver the visitors say “unparalleled beauty’
Shows the real meaning of Sukala sakti, white power.
The lies are full roses with calla lily centers that become part of the dress they’re colored so right.
From the southland to the lion’s park the opal beach and pointing to the hook. Between the lakes people are gathering driftwood for bon fires later. There’s a peddler ahead with several bags strapped on and no he couldn’t look much stranger. We over take with faith in a blind corner. The cruiser king joins in for a rare threesome. Through the triangle to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot. The harbor is there and so is the tennis park. the king takes leave here back to review more. The gecko and I pedal on to the basketball park. The soccer pitch is on the right at the wharf road. We follow that to the main street at the long and winding the gecko takes leave and I go on to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and the kalarupa pulls me along to the sandhya just under the tag.
The gold and soft bed is the nightdress this evening. They are ready for their night pastimes even though the chill has returned. They dress early and I’m off to get ready for the next day.
Twenty-five years from thirteenth street
Swooning peacocks on the kirta’s front
Crowns and effulgence made from peacock feathers
The oldest of all but in a new dress
Sari of paper silk, Giridhari’s putka is fuchsia like the veil
Great big chimps better give us no lip
The oldest of all but in a new dress
At the ratha-bhojana-vrksa we bow our heads and catch the main street. A double frame creation is being pedaled in front of us. Sort of a high wheeler As we pass he nods a few are on a tour with bags, pots and maps stashed everywhere are going the opposite direction they wave and smile. Through the triangle and on to the natasala where the founder of demon crazy now will speak tomorrow Saint Dagwood’s park is empty for the holiday the monque still leaps though. There are extra folks out near the sufferer thakura. The gecko and I take the street near the bhajan kutir of Bhakta Blade and on to the natural bridges. Seymour isn’t there at his museum today. Imagine all the people going to a cave. We check out the abhavana mauli it’s quiet except for the wind. On back to the navapatra there are dune buggies and electronic peddlers in concert for each other. Crossing the railroad bridge there are no mountain men below they’ve also gone to the cave. Around the trader’s and up to the shop where we take leave I hammer a straight line to the campa hatti and swing through the hospital car park next is the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa awaits and I fold my palms. Kalarupa takes me back to beat the sandhya’s tag.
In the ninth this evening The wind is chilly but not so much like it was the night before Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari dance late into the night with anticipation of warmer days ahead
Far away across the battlefield Giridhari’s best devotees come to offer service after the warriors had been delivered from illusions spell
Gandharvika is in the hood too. One warrior had said, “Govinda, I shall not fight” and fell silent. Red, white and black they helped boys dodge the draft
Whole roses, petals and a few sumanas flowers make the leis today. Two symmetrical, the other free form
The gecko and I once again offer respect to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and sprint to the cyber super highway. Then to the lion’s park and campa hatti where we go left to the hook of the point. Between the lakes the bon fires are already burning with the chill coming on. The demon crazy is speaking at the natasala when the gecko and I hammer by. Around the corner we see a fleet of peddlers with trailers attached. The cruisers are at the next street some with suffering boards. Through the triangle and to the ramp there are some fixed gear heads huffing and puffing up the hills. We see the bear and say hey! At the soccer pitch we take leave and I go on to the main street to the long and winding. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees me fold my palms and the kalarupa sees how I am ready for sayana instead of sandhya so we go to the asrama as fast as we can.
Baby blue is what they call this one. The great society has names for the centers of the world and this is named for the service connection.
Oh what a beautifully divine baby when it came to winning blue ribbons he surely showed the whole world how. With the lion in both the jotish cakra and the birth moment the astrologer knew he was a great personality. Blue and the hottest of pinks with rose and petal leis that fit just right “sometimes I have to talk to the flowers” the maker told me in the evening. Oh what a beautifully divine baby ‘cause look how he charmed the whole world
Vyau took over the day and the gecko and I were blown all across the wild acres, through the jala mandir in Govinda Kunda. We spent a hot night in Budapest and saw some strange people’s faces come out of the rain. The wind certainly was nearly hurricane velocity, nearly turning men into mice and with chattering teeth people cursed us as we pedaled by and then stood to salute the star spangled banner.
Pralad-a-dad is the nightdress on this night of high wind. The chill factor makes it seem much colder than it is. What a surprise the chilly wind makes us feel colder. Giridhari’s necklace lost all it’s kinks this evening when I took it off him. “Why couldn’t you do that this morning?!!” I asked some outside thought I spoke about them so I explained. They got a laugh and Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari took rest eagerly.

The lotus nails tonight, reversible thread one side looks green and the other looks orange. Om Paramahamsa Thakura, or Bhakta Blade took the reigns as Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari took rest early this evening. He likes Giridhari’s coat so much that he says when Giridhari casts it off he has first claim.
Well I’m a rhinestone mukutwalla
Making crowns for Deities who will wear them I’ll never know
Offered on Vyasa puja with offerings coming in from all across the universe
I’m a rhinestone mukutwalla
Making crowns for Deities who will wear them I’ll never know
Roses, petals and leaves in the leis with bottlebrushes as knee ticklers
Swirling as they dance throughout the universe
The rhinestone mukutwalla
Goes on making crowns for Deities who will wear them he’ll never know
The gecko and I take off asking what if this year is different? What if the rain never stops and the blue skies never return? “Don’t be ridiculous!” the gecko says,” Just listen to the politicians, the state is in the middle of decades of drought. This rain is only a figementation your imagimanation” by now the ratha-bhojana-vrksa is there and so we stop to bow. The main street is there and we go to the right over the highway and through the clank of the aluminum bat field to the whaler’s corner we go. Then the triangle comes. It’s more treacherous than usual today due to the rain but somehow we make it through. The other peddler’s have varieties of rain gear. We round the corner and pass the cruiser king. Then the natasala is on the left. We take the left and turn at the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot. The harbor is in sight and all the boats are tied down. Between the lakes even the geese have gone into hiding. The windmill is empty now and we go on to the point of hook. Beyond that is the wharf road the soccer pitch is on the left. We go under the highway here and on the other side a group of four peddlers’ is breaking away. The main street takes us to the long and winding where we take leave. I fold my palms to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and let the kalarupa drag me to the sandhya.
Sometimes the speed that an outfit, however simple it is, comes together as this one did, it’s a miracle mom. The purple for Mahaprabhu, gold lemae with fuchsia chodder is Giridhari’s choice and similar color sari for Gandharvika. Then amidst the rain and clouds they dance the night away.

Do you ever get the feeling at night?
That for some reason you just don’t know what to write?
There are many things can be said it’s true
But still nothing comes to you
Mahaprabhu wearing deep blue
Tradition for Giridhari with his yellow kirta, dhoti and cummerbund
Flame grape color as Gandharvika’s sari
No trumpets blowing a description of the Deities in their clothes
So when it’s time to talk about it this is all I’ve got to say
Wonder wild flower leis
Calla lilies in the center of Gandharvika and Mahaprabhu
Giridhari has roses .and it follow his tribanga, neck waist and knees
The gecko and I sprint all the way past the ratha-bhojana-vrksa into the main street past the campa hatti to the triangle spinning around and around to come down by the trader’s. Back up to the school advertising spring vacation. The reviewing stands come into vision while the gecko takes leave and I hammer on to the bear. From there the wharf road comes up with the soccer pitch behind me and the main street ahead the long and winding calls me back for the sandhya. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees me fold my palms and the kalarupa drags me to the asrama.
The soft bed with gold is the nightdress. They seem a bit tired and slip into their nightdress early a d without too much complaining. One day and that day maybe coming sooner than I think, they will splain to me how I stayed around one fine day.
How about a new set of effulgence when Mahaprabhu wears his bright orange pair of pants?
Where have you been taking darsana prabhu? Are you going to tell me you’re inside the pujari’s head too?
It’s the blue stars an Giridhari’s cape, the ruffles on Gandharvika’s skirt
Now matter how you slice it it means today’s Ekadasi to me.
Leis of roses that slip by the end of the day “hey can’t you turn Gandharvika’s the other way?
Anyway you look at it it’s the Ekadasi day to me…
The gecko and I bow to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and go ahead on to the main street and up ahead to the natasala where people are lining up for the evening’s show. We go by the nava patrea and make the right as the monque leaps on the right. Up the hill to the bhajana kutir of Bhakta Blade. At the natural bridge we see that Seymour’s is open and not only that but
Gurudeva has come saying, “I wish you’d come home. Won’t you please exchange opening for network TV. shows to give pleasure to the Lord with a cool breeze. “
“You’re all just lost souls on the karmic merry-go-round birth after birth, won’t you please learn that you can come home”
geckoji and I set out to find the internet superhighway. First though we bow to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa. We go right onto the main street. At the clank of the aluminum bat field bear down to beat the light. Then the rise in the road to the whaler’s and around to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot and back to the harbor. Between the lakes the geese are our in force and a recumbent team slides by them. In the southland we find the Internet superhighway and take leave. The gecko backs to his shop and I into cyber space the next frontier. Once I’ve returned I go straight up to the long and winding. At a shop of the beans one of the folks comes out to say “hey”. It’s a nice exchange and then it’s back to the kalarupa and the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where I fold my palms and the kalarupa reminds me that I need to get out the anchor up and make the arati on time,
The baby blue nightdress reminding all that they holy places have come to the western world for where ever there is Gridhari the supreme enjoyer and where ever there is Mahaprabhu the emperor of sanyasi kings there is bound to be all three victory, power and extraordinary beauty.
Miss Sue Nila was in town today. Mahaprabhu was in his mango color and Giridhari was in yellow. They spoke of laxmi Devi how she runs the show. As the song wound along we sat on the floor. They wore necklaces made by the locals to match the dress. It all fit so well the devotees confessed. Leis of wild flowers that grow on the asrama’s land calla lilies in the center of each. Gandharvika’s formed what looked like a heart and everyone thought the maker quite smart.
Ah ha, oh no! Don’t let the rain come down! The gecko and I were hoping that the break in the clouds would last long enough to pedal out on the mission of the day. It did and we went over the first highway and around to the tennis park through the harbor and around the boardwalk. The monque was leaping as we came into view and the trader saluted as we went around too. We took leave at the corner at the top of the hill the gecko to the shop and I to the twin lakes pool. I went on to the wharf road and then the main street the long and winding led to the ratha-bhojana’s seat. The kalarupa took me along and when got to the asrama the sandhya was ready to sing his song.
On the horse of a different color we entered marakatamani puri. This outfit was offered for Radhastami the matched up to a day to talk like a pirate.
Dhotis were first worn in that transcendental land of Bharatvarsya this outfit was made by the hand of Bharatian tailor
Look at it with the jaundiced western eye and it’s easy to say these
Dhotis are made backwards.
So when the dhotis and saris are coming pre made and sir robi says the dhotis appear to be made backward and the sari is to short
Hearken back to sastras read they must be reconstructed
Leis of roses and rhododendron even a freesia leis for the flute
The rain broke into a sucker hole long enough for the gecko and I to bow to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and on to the southland where we slipped into cyber space so we put some modems on our helmets. We did meet several friends there. Time was conspicuous by it’s presence there reminding me that we must be on our way past Mahamuni’s post box and the lion’s park. The campa hatti didn’t have any rhymes today so we took the left and pointed to the hook. Between the lakes people had their umbrellas out. Down by the natasala where another show is about to begin we take leave and I slide down the peddler’s ramp all the way to the bear. He says “howdy bol”. From there the soccer pitch is on the right and some folks playing a curious game called “base” wave as I pass. The wharf road takes me to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where I fold my palms and the kalarupa challenges me to make the sandhya on time.

Come to the temple and serve your guru forever
Taking the mala in a clean white bag
And engage in the search for sri Krsna
Srila Maharaja let us install some Deities the devotees asked
Though they knew they weren’t ready.
So he asked them to come, he said it was a heavy day
And we engaged in the search for sri Krsna
A couple of years later he returned and told us
Gandharvika came here a simple Indian girl and now she’s become an American.
We all thought what have we done?
Have we engaged properly in the search for sri Krsna?
Today the leis are quite simply some daisies, rose petals and statice
The wind has been unstoppable. The gecko and I went on anyway bowing to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa we circled the the southland to the snob hill. Going into the village we laugh, hoot and holler. The sufferers along the beach are shivering in the breeze. So they are building bon fires. The natasala is getting ready for a weekend of big acts and the shop is calling the gecko back so I go around Saint Dagwood’s park to the reviewing stand. From there it’s the triangle and then the harbor. The fires have been lit between the lakes. I take that as a sign that it’s time to get to the wharf road with the soccer pitch on the left to the main street and on to the long and winding. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa welcomes my folded palms and the kalarupa drags me up the road with him.
The Deities are staying inside tonight with the chill in the air. They put on their deep within the far off jungle dress and dance all night long.

Off in the forest of Vrndavan
Lived a community of cowherd men
They may never have learned the Vedas so well
But the leader of the girls was so punctual she was there with a bell
They’d churn the milk to butter and turn some into cheese
When Krsna plays his flute they’d come around with bells on to do whatever he please
Flowers from all over the asrama’s land gave the leis their own special brand
The gecko and I make the ratha-bhojana-vrksa bowing our heads and sprint on by the whalers and through the triangle past Saint Dagwood’s park to seeing the morning’s stars. After darsana we turned and circled the old trader’s. As we come to the go light one of the beasts cuts in front of me I bounce off the beast and some how find a way onto the sidewalk and then an exit ramp back to the peddler’s lane. At the next light “Good job staying up right” the gecko tells me. “I was lucky, thought I didn’t have a chance” I replied. Took the corner to the reviewing stand through the triangle and took leave. I went on to the harbor and between the lakes. Up to the windmill, it’s vacant now, to the trail along the beach to the wharf road, stopping to get Mahamuni’s post. On the wharf road the soccer pitch is on the left and I continue to the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa is waiting. The kalarupa drags me to the asrama and the sandhya
Bhakta Blade put in a rare Thursday night appearance. He is pleased saying that Gandharvika’s clothes co operated with him this evening. I wipe the floor and shut the light to let them begin their pastimes of the night

They took devotees and put them in a theistic museum
Charged the people a rupee and a half just to see them
But don't people everywhere know that the true value of a silk turban
Will only be known when bowed down before the Lord
Leis maker went and picked periwinkle and daises
Combined them most artistically
They sway in the dance of the Deities
And don't people everywhere know that the true value of a silk turban
Will only be known when bowed down before the Lord
The gecko and I take off straight for the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where we bow our heads and then sprint to the main street. At the corner of the clank of the aluminum bat Johnny Law gives chase to a peddler that tried to unsuccessfully tired to beat the go light. We go on past Saint Dagwood's park to the leaping monque up toward the kutir of Bhakta Blade. On to the natural bridges and Seymour's museum. At the sign we meet up with a fellow peddler that says “I'm lost how do I get back home?” We're going over the bridge follow us” we look at the mountain men below and head back by the leaping monque. Just in front of the trader's I point and tell him “if you go straight down this street you'll go right to your house.” We go around the trader's and back to the corner where we go left to the reviewing stand. At the triangle we take leave. The peddler has just reached the other side but the light changes and he spins down the road. I fall behind quite a ways but then just at the campa hatti I see him at the frontage road. I take the frontage road and come up on the big street. At the long and winding I fold my palms and the kalarupa pulls me up to the sandhya on the way we pass the peddler who has taken to walking. When we get there the peddler walks up he sees me and asks how he got there first. Then he understands that the kalarupa and I went up to the back drive and around the barn.
Pralad-a-dad tonight. The Deities are dancing late tonight. They're enjoying like anything.

They took devotees and put them in a theistic museum
Charged the people a rupee and a half just to see them
But don’t people everywhere know that the true value of a silk turban
Will only be known when bowed down before the Lord
Leis maker went and picked periwinkle and daises
Combined them most artistically
They sway in the dance of the Deities
And don’t people everywhere know that the true value of a silk turban
Will only be known when bowed down before the Lord
The gecko and I take off straight for the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where we bow our heads and then sprint to the main street. At the corner of the clank of the aluminum bat Johnny Law gives chase to a peddler that tried to unsuccessfully tired to beat the go light. We go on past Saint Dagwood’s park to the leaping monque up toward the kutir of Bhakta Blade. On to the natural bridges and Seymour’s museum. At the sign we meet up with a fellow peddler that says “I’m lost how do I get back home?” We’re going over the bridge follow us” we look at the mountain men below and head back by the leaping monque. Just in front of the trader’s I point and tell him “if you go straight down this street you’ll go right to your house.” We go around the trader’s and back to the corner where we go left to the reviewing stand. At the triangle we take leave. The peddler has just reached the other side but the light changes and he spins down the road. I fall behind quite a ways but then just at the campa hatti I see him at the frontage road. I take the frontage road and come up on the big street. At the long and winding I fold my palms and the kalarupa pulls me up to the sandhya on the way we pass the peddler who has taken to walking. When we get there the peddler walks up he sees me and asks how he got there first. Then he understands that the kalarupa and I went up to the back drive and around the barn.
Pralad-a-dad tonight. The Deities are dancing late tonight. They’re enjoying like anything.