In the brahma mahurta when you wake up with the mantra running through your head
first thing you do when you get out of bed
is head for arati and join with the masses
to see if the pujari offers wearing rose color glasses
now the question arises ‘why does each outfit have a name?’
‘why does murka play this silly game?’
well how else to separate each one from it’s classmates
as well as make a schedule for each month’s dates?
Taking darsana of this one just after dark moon night
Calling it Follow the angels serve Gurudeva receiving inner light
Thakura’s leis of roses and zinnias dancing making a melodious sight
Navadvipa rasa just as sweet as gur
Above all that’s what everyone is searching for
Racing to the surya kutir looking for a freebie but it isn’t there so it’s off to the whalers on to the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot. Left there to the redone road that leads to the harbor. Right between the lakes where the geese mock the tourists the windmill is empty right to the sunny cove smoothly in and out of a line of beach cruisers to the wharf road under the first highway back to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa folding palms and following the kalarupa to the sandhya under the lights with the reflexive property of equality on his backpack Murka enters the arena of pure consciousness with quail welcoming him
Once SP said the thakuras could be termed “the magic dolls” and this nightdress called ‘it’s a miracle mom’ made so quickly it made the seamstress’ four heads spin!
With Guru Maharaja’s vyasa puja on the horizon and knowing he appeared at midnight the seamstress planned an outfit from multitudes of shades of purple saris.
Can you give me your sweet shelter?
Prepare me to be used to serve Mahaprabhu
It’s miracle I’m sure that you can do
Lavender veil, violet long coat
Leis of yellow roses bending around their fair forms pointing out every
Fold, curve and crevasse in their bodies adding a heady scent to the arena of their dancing.
Pedaling through the storm trying to dodge the raindrops Murka and I look for the drier quarters where the pedalers all go the places they only know. Some in raingear and some not afraid are a little wet but all are smiling and feel the glow of being out in spite of the adi daivic kelsa. Along the beach there are a few sufferers out there to catch the biggest wave. Through the puddles and between the drops it’s on to the natasala were no one is waiting outside even though there is a show about to begin. At the shop I take leave telling Murka that he needs a new pair of shoes. He goes on through the treacherous triangle to ask the bear if it will be all right. The wharf road is there to take him back to the asrama. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa keeps the drops on it’s branches while Murka and the kalarupa get together for the last mile and three quarters to the sandhya where only the kernel of divine love is waiting saying “well at least you aren’t in an ambulance.
Deep within the far off jungle is the nightdress and there the thakuras have taken refuge for their evening pastimes to stay dry and see the stars returning o the sky.
Consciousness is wandering aimlessly meandering across each and every mundane universe
Devotees laughing, kirtan’s joy is inviting and tempting all to come across each and every mundane universe
Mahaprabhu’s vest, Giridhari’s cloak, Gandharvika’s valanced skirt darsana of this dress entices all to the serving mode
Leis of roses, petals and full are swaying, spinning with every move of the thakura’s gait
Always meant to change the world
Through the wild roses changing the rain to sun, the clouds are being blown by the wind still the sky is clear. Pedalers are in wind breaking gear many more out today waving as they pass. The village has some foks today with the temperature rising the sun being in the sky in late afternoon it comes back down again. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa is awaiting folded palms has the kalarupa waiting to escort Murka back for the sandhya where a Utonian is welcoming him in.
A windy day and a busy day so the Hiranyakasipu nightdress is soft and comfortable to let them rest before rising for the mangal aratil