We all came down to Navadvipa on the Ganges shore
To chant mantras with the Brahmans and do the eclipse chore
Bathe in the Ganga, Nadia sasadara in the sky
Advaita Acarya and Haridasa were chanting with an ecstatic sound
But just why they were dancing, the reason wasn’t easily found
Bathe in the Ganga, Nadia sasadara in the sky
Then over at the Yoga Pitha Hari bol! Began to resound
Soon the news of Mahaprabhu’s birth was spreading all over town
Bathe in the Ganga, Nadia sasadara in the sky
Leis of rose petals and lilies artfully arranged colors matching too
You’ve got to come for darsana soon so not to get the blues
Bathe in the Ganga, Nadia sasadara in the sky
At the southland entrance to the highway el siddhamuni sat beneath his camouflage as usual. Gecko and I spoke with other friends there. A laughing cowboy was there asking if I could arrange to throw a banana in the fire. Next thing a cruiser pointed Gecko and I to the hook where sufferers hang out before and after their encounters with the waves. Pedaling along that coast to watch them dive and suffer in the breeze. Between the lakes many people were looking for a place to set up shop. A fixed gear freak and his gang who didn’t share his passion for the single speed were going up the same hill the plain roadies were. The plain roadies overtook them and waved good-bye. Rounding the corner to the harbor over the bridge on to the natasala. Gecko takes his usual leave there and I pass the reviewing stand. The treacherous triangle lets me through to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-.lot. With the tennis park on my right I see a license plate that brings another friend to the fore. He spoke of perhaps coming up the long and winding. Keeping the soccer pitch on my left I meet a vaikuntha angel speaking incantations to engage the populace in the play of the sweet absolute. The bear is happy to talk with me one more time. Under the first highway on the wharf road. the toffee nose doesn’t like that sentence. The long and winding takes me up to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa that sees me fold my palms and the kalarupa takes me to the sandhya.
Pralad-a-dad is the nightdress tonight. Bhakta Blade has come along to take the reigns. He’s getting faster. Giridhari’s hair foxes him this evening. He awards me no contrast points but sings the glories of outfit specific jewelry. Some the panels on Gandharvika’s skirt are wider than usual. Her veil is a bit different too but it all works out, which is it may not be too bad. Dancing and dancing they take their rest.