Seva’s the zenith of our aspiration
Bow your silk turban at the feet of the lord
Then we can enter the land of dedication
Where everything is so high we must walk on our heads
White waistcoat with blue dhoti and peacock effulgence
This is a turban that shows it’s true value
Roses, petals, leaves and a couple of buds in the leis
Flowers blooming in the earliest springtime days
On the highway is someone talking of a young and an old priest. A vyjanti mala wala comes to the edge but cannot enter. Through the village where a team is tuning up for a shot in a tour the beach is where the sufferers are changing on this windy day. Boats in the harbor are tethered due to the waves. Across from a metaphysical book store the shop awaits so I take my leave. Murkha rounds the corner past the king to the ramp along to the pitch which is still closed then to the main street the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa brings him to bow his head and chase the kalarupa. Met by Vijaya in the middle of the path.
Pralahad a dad this evening matching earrings temperature has risen enough to invite all night dancing.. Bhakta blade is out so I’m on my own . panel skirt, vest and cummerbund make this nightdress unique as dresses go. They’re enjoying like anything.

Frolicking, happily and smiling
Tending the cows in the pastures along the Yamuna’s water
You know i want to play with you
The calves, cows cowboys their friends and all others
This memory came today and I can’t wait to join in
Return to the pasture media time again
Roses in the leis leaves and lilies
To stretch and center
Drizzle won’t make Murkha and I give in
Keep pedaling with a wide grin
In the southland the freeway is ready
Small talk and then it’s back to the shop where
I take my leave and Murkha is left to neg0tiate the main street to heed the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and pedal with the kalarupa all the way to the sandhya where vijaya greets him in his is famous raincoat
Where the ganges doesn’t flow is the Radhadese yes there’s a name for all the tirthas in the world the Deities outfits too,
This nightdress is baby blue.

Have you seen the hari nama party?
Teaching divine love to all the world
As inspired by Mahaprabhu and sri guru
I'm waiting here in front of the natasala
For the Hari Nama party to take me from this mundane plane
Can't take it any longer
My senses are trying to bring me down
tears of separation that will free my eternal soul
now I can hear the Hari nama party
Going join in with them
Want to be gurudeva's child try to be a devotee
Then try to share the love divine
For the price of one's faith give the holy name to one and all
Leis from flowers from the land and the maker's garden
Daffy dills and daisies are from the land while freesias are from the maker's garden.
Taking off to the navapatra where the news is still one everyone's lips. Pictures, videos, and accounts are abounding. Murkha and I take off from there to the post box of Mahamuni. Through the lion's park . On one of the lawns there are wooden animals engaged in various sports. Left at the campa hatti to the village and the beach the pitch is closed to spare the grass. Another team is coming from town chattering and laughing as they sprint by all the recreational pedalers. There are some boats out but many are in due to a slight breeze and the idea of rain in the air. When Murkha and I reach the natasala I take my leave and Murkha rounds the corner to the reviewing stand. Sneaking through the treacherous triangle Murkha flies down the ramp and up to the wharf road. over under around and through to the calling of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where he bows his head and the kalarupa encourages him to the sandhya to be greeted by the sloka slinger ,the gangster of prema himself who smiled to see his asarvada hat.
Gangster putra bhakta blade had the thakuras dancing this evening so much that Srimati Gandharvika's mukut came off. As he dressed them in “the touch that kills” his anarthas must have taken flight like birds from a tree pleasing the thakuras so much.

Darsana in the nath mandir
Eye exercise but with service intent
Sunburst flowers in the effulgence
Blue with yellow sunflowers trimming yellow clothes
Rising from the dandvat tuck
Can’t believe our unimaginable luck
You might well remember December’s unstoppable rain
Collecting flowers for the leis could drive one insane
Now through open windows incense wafts
Blending with the kirtan sound and now the leis have roses, leaves, and jasmin daffy dills from all across the land a sure sign of spring
Murkha, my friend, and I pedal away so easily
To the navapatra for the highway and a chat with friends
Ah, but cannot talk too much longer now the hour is getting late
Time to take off for the beach where all the sufferers come and go
Joggers with strollers too
Teams are out there is one in a full race mode
Some one a cruiser breaks their rhythm
Team surrounds and drops him
Murkha and I swing by the natasala where I have to take leave Murkha takes the right at the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot blending with the other pedalers to the redone road. The tennis park is on the right. At the toad road Murkha takes another right. A basketball park is on the left and in a couple of blocks the navapatra is on the right once again. Going to the wharf road chasing the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa, murkha folds his palms on arrival. The kalarupa is on track and leads him to the sandhya greeted by a van full of folks on their way to some kind of celebration.
The soft yellow and gold silky nightdress from Nrsimha caturdasi is called hiranya kasipu. They’re ready for their evening pastimes to go on enjoying like anything.

Oh if it’s ekadasi and the mood is blue
Why not offer a new mukut or two?
In this dress there are colors every where
Each color of the rainbow is there
In another room listen to see how rare
Noticing the new mukuts adorning the thakura’s hair
Leis of flowers from the land
Daffy dills, calla lilies and daisies
Mixed with petals from an outside hand
Smooth light and lacy
Murkha and I head down to the spacey highway and hear the worst of the worst. Folks are talking about it there is crying, hugging and the whole host of support activities. I take my leave to the shop and hearing the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa gets murkha to fold his palms and chase the kaoarupa to the sandhya greeted by one coming down fast but still doesn’t break him.
Deep within the far off jungle sees the thakuras in a happy state of mind welcoming back one of their own into the divine service relam.

The truth is here
We seek it there
But like a serpent
It moves in a zigzag line
We need a captain
That can show where to find
To plug in as with the electric
Otherwise it will be too hectic
We must become dedicated followers
Of the captain
Hyacinths of purple and yellow
jonquils yellow with orchids mellow
Leis that are light
while the thakuras pirouette they’ll take flight
murkha and I are on the way to the stars of aruna
where tiny bears are telling stories. Returning along the main street many are pedaling some with people one with a pet some on plug in cycles and others on skates. I take leave at the shop but Murkha needs carry on to the sandhya. taking the pedaler’s ramp and nodding to the bear Murkha goes to the wharf road. the ratha-bhojana-vrksa calls out and Murkha folds his palms. The kalarupa helps him along the way. At the asrama the kernel of divine love greets him with hands held high “Gaura Hari bol”
some times outfits come together so fast it seems like no time. This dark and light purple with Giridhari’s sliver lame pants manifest for nandotsava and S.p.’s birthday like a miracle.

Mahaprabhu is searching the lost servants
Think they know what they want but really don’t know
So He’ll show what life’s all about
Prema, divine prema comes by his grace
Jadhu munecas are purifying our soul
Jewels applied with some kind of glue
May look good but come off quick too
Kirtan sweet kirtan source of the ocean of bliss
Material conception frustrates the rest
Roses, petals, sumanas leis sway to and fro with chanting sound
Just why do I insist on hanging around
Here in this world
Kirtan prema kirtan
Source of the ocean of bliss
Murkha and I take off from the main street over the first highway. The field of the clank of the aluminum bat is on the right while the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot is on the left. The cruiser king is at the reviewing stand and notes the passing. Through the treacherous triangle to the redone road Murkha and I are sprinting and laughing. Left between the lakes where the geese are honking and the sufferers are getting ready for the chill of the evening. The big street leads back to the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa watches murhka bow his head and the kalarupa challenges him to the sandhya
I have to take leave to the shop and leave Murkha to the arati.
Om paramahamsa thakura is in with the pirates of marakata mani puri and together they dress Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari in the pink and emerald night dress that is reminiscent of the horse of a different color we’ve heard tell about.
one of the ladies passing the thakura vari today
Srimati Gandharvika caught her eye
For that moment she was free
Desire and longing
As she looked she said to me
“this is my favorite,
gandharvika’s skirt looks like a bubble”
heading over to the tilak garden
flowers shining in the sun
perhaps five or seven devotees
stringing leis for the top most one
roses with leaves to stretch them to their knees
Murkja and spun along to the space highway
Floating weightlessly
March Four and twenty it was one friend’s birthday
Sending wishes Murkha took the thakura’s names
I do believe he knew it was Ramacandra’s avirbha
Through the lion’s park to the village where the sufferers go
Along the beach with joggers , dogs and Frisbees
Between the geese past the harbor to the natasala
Where I took leave and Murka circled around the tennis park
Reaching the long and winding bowing to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa the kalarupa pulls him back for the sandhya
Where he saw an eternally golden one chanting his rounds
On his tulasi beads that he got from his teacher
Nrsimhadeva;s lotus nails tore the chest of hiranya kasipu they are weapons but not weapons. Offered on that day this nightdress takes that name with its not orange but not green look.

Is it Hanging in mid air?
A halo of peacock feathers over the Deities
Plumes encased in jari there in the thakura vari
Or suspended from “invisible” wires
Safely above the mukuts
Peacock eyes watch peacocks dancing
So many flowers in Mahaprabhu’s lei
Gandharvika-Giridhari must have wanted it that way
Sprinting the long and winding to Main Street. Right over the first highway passing the dvitiya campa . The whalers are out paying attention to detail. Going through the treacherous triangle keeping the post office on the right. Circling around to the shop where I take my leave. Murkha goes on to the peadler’s ramp on the way to the wharf road. under the first highway to the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa bowing there the kalarupa take him up to the asrama where the sugmeister general greets him
Back once again to where the radhadesa is where the Ganges doesn’t flow. It’s Monday so the Thakuras are dancing waiting for the mangal arati to begin the day again.

When gurudeva looks at us all he sees the spark there that’s smoldering and the thakuras are wearing “follow the angels”
He’s come to teach all how to water the creeper of divine love
Come break maya’s control over us, come to free us too
Look at the world and see that it’s suffering
Today the thakuras are dressed in “follow the angels”
Every mistake is a pillar of success
From immemorial time we’ve been diverted,
our consciousness perverted
but With his clarion call bringing us for service of sri guru-
Gauranga gandharvika-Giridhari with leis of roses, petals, daffy dills and lilies that take the center stage
His prescription even the hardest must be converted
A sprint to the navapatra fragment considers revising. Murkha and I are on safari to the highway. The sun makes it almost impossible to see who is speaking but somehow it happens. Leaving the highway Murkha and I pedal along the coast where the sufferers are in constant view. Turning to the harbor where the boats are out at the shop I take leave and Murkha goes on to the reviewing stand. Through the treacherous triangle down the pedaler’s ramp saying hey to the bear another fragment to consider revising. Pedaling along to the wharf road under the first highway the ratha-bhojana-vrksa calls out and the kalarupa is there after Murkha has folded his palms to respect the vrksa and race back for the sandhya. the buttercarya is at the door with ghee in hand.
In the ninth the nightdress that was made for Guru Maharaja’s appearance day, the ninth day of the waxing moon of kartik. Red blue and a little green are arranged in this dress for dancing all night long.

With gurudeva’s mercy, jiva, you can return home
At the stroke of midnight he appeared beginning
his mission to deliver the fallen
can you give me Mahaprabhu’s shelter?
I feel like I’ve fallen out of a tree
Master said “Vrndavana is for shallow thinkers”
And I need your grace to help me see
Four shades of purple from vyasa puja day
Hari nama sankirtan one and only way to pray
Mahaprabhu’s lei with roses and daffy dills
giridhari’s adds hyacinth thrills
srimati Gandharvika has gerbera center
a compact way to the highway over the main street, after the chat it’s off to the village where the sufferers go. Construction to soften the sheer drops slows things a bit by pushing joggers, dog walkers and pickpockets together. Weaving through them to the avenue of the tennis park where the park is on the right, I take leave at the harbor going on to the shop. While Murkha goes right on straight ahead through the treacherous triangle and the pedaler’s ramp. The dvitiya campa hatti is on the left where many makers of leis get their flowers over the first highway to the long and winding where Murkha bows to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and asks the kalarupa if he knows the way to the asrama. Greeted by vijaya in a raincoat he returns.
As the warmth lingers Sri Guru-Gauranga-Gandharvika in their deep within the far off jungle nightdress dance all night long
So many devotees gathered around
Hoping to feel his warmth and hear his divine sound
All will remember the dream they shared
None wanting to have to say good-bye
He opens their darkened eyes
bringing his effulgence bright as sunshine
uttama slokas from across the universe over the phone lines
crystal mukuts and necklaces glistening
elegant brocade vivid colors melting hearts turned to stone
who could forget the hyacinth leis?
Mixed with roses and gerbera centers to reach their knees
“ well Murkha, it’s so good to see your feet is better” one of the folks said as he went out the door. Off to the main street passing the dvitiya campa hatti. There is a mountain man on the right pedaling away but murkha and I are a little faster. at the shop I take leave and murkha schedules and heads over the first highway on the way to the spacey one. Near the pasu kaviraja one traveling by sings out “sraddha van jana he! Sraddha van jana he!” Murkha raises the left hand and repeats “Sraddha van jana he!” Pictures of spring showing deer covered in snow to their necks are on someone’s mind. That in mind the ratha-bhojana-vrksa calls out and the kalarupa chases Murkha to sandhya greeted by the motor cycle sloka slinger fresh back from an adventure of his own
Hiranya kasipu on the equinox and Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari are eager to dance under the stars this evening the night is warm and the chodders stay in the closet.

Kirtan at arati Deities in “the oldest of all but in a new dress”
Leader using a siddhanti tune
Still the thing to remember is the peacock that swoons
Paper silk teal with fuchsia patka
Offered first on a March full moon
Got it’s name ‘cause of the peacock that swoons
Leis of jonquils both big and small
Mahaprabhu running at the speed of mind toward a sand dune
The kind of ecstasy that made the peacock swoon
“are there any watchmen?” asks Murkha “no!” I replied
considering sprinting along the winding over the main street to the highway where the officer says traffic is down here. A short talk again today completing the circle of the southland to Mahamuni’s post box the building is getting a paint job proceed with caution past the lion’s park up to the dvitiya campa hatti right there to the long an winding while the ratha-bhojana-vrksa calls out and the kalarupa is chasing behind with a Krsna krsna
Krsna is a brahmacari ‘cause in this nightdress he is wearing mostly orange and “if you can say that,” he told his topmost devotees, the river Yamuna will part and allow you to cross without a boat. or years of austerity imeadiate effect will be achieved.

The curtain opens to show the takers in Aruna, Nila and syama
Some how Prabhu Nityananda has brought us here
And Srila Gurudeva will make us ready
A festival for the eyes
Jnana dipana shines alive
Igniting the fire of pure consciousness inside
Leis of petals, leaves and sumanas flowers with cal lilies to stretch them to their chins
Spinning along to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and bowing across the main street to the highway’s entrance off again to the village there is a game going on on the pitch around the sufferers to the navapatra the wharf road comes take murkha to the long and winding the kalarupa is pulling Murkha along to the sandya. Greeted by the quail crossing the drive.
Pralahad-a-dad this evening with om parama hamsa thakura on the job murkha puts Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari to bed this evening even without a fire they leave their chodders in the closet.
In the outfit called “superstar”
Mahaprabhu looked on all with a smiling face
Meeting the gazes of all those trying to escape
He cast a web of love beyond hatred
With his turban Pink with silver long kirta
and lei of roses, petals gerbera daisies and leaves
He pushed out the mentality of demons
Mahaprabhu looked out on everyone who’d come for darsana
that Gaura Purnima his form reflected in the hearts of all
Murkha thought that today would be one when he’d let sickness take him where he couldn’t go but when that was blocked he and I sprinted down the long and winding over the main street to get on the highway. A brief chat showed pictures of nature in an affectionate way. Circling the highway to the lion’s park Murkha and I spin in to the pitch where the sign says it’s closed. Along the railroad track there’s trail waiting to be found. Right at the navapatra to the wharf road under the first highway hearing the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa folding his palms and wasting no time pulls the kalarupa along to the sandhya welcomed by none other than the Sugmeister general himself.
“O deer dough! Have you seen Krsna?” the nightdress asks the question of high substance. The jewelry is visible again as the chodders are beginning to fade into the winter.

With gurudeva’s mercy you can understand
The highest truth ‘cause he speaks to all in the soul’s language
“worship Mahaprabhu, talk about Mahaprabhu,
chant his holy name” let mahaprabhu become your
life and soul
by and by one day you may be transported to the highest land
perhaps get a glimpse of Srimati Gandharvika in the hood
where her need of service is great take the chance and if you can satisfy the result will be grand
leis of petals, roses, lilies and leaves
long enough to reach their knees
busting loose again. Spinning along the long and winding rejoicing at the ratha-bhojana-vrksa on to the southland where the highway is open and friends are ready to talk. Off that highway on to the main street and the hopsital curve left there to the avenue of the tennis park another left at the toad’s road he says “hey!” as Murkha and I pass his gym. the trader talks sometime and then I have to take my leave and let Murkha head back to the sandhya. He goes the route of the hospital curve once more. Taking a right at the avenue of the dvitya campa hatti and right along to the bridge over the first highway. Dodging the go lights to the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa calls out to meet the kalarupa and bow at the vrksa breaking the spin into a sprint all the way to the asrama where the kernel of divine love greets him with an “I recognize you!”
Om Paramahamsa Thakura is hot while helping Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari into their nightdress. He may call East Bengal the Radhadesa but Monday evening is always Baby blue.

At the asrama in the hills above the bay
Plum, apple and avocado trees in the orchard
Eleventh day since the full moon, the day of Gaura Purnima
Every color in the rainbow in the thakuras dress
With bright blue stars and peacocks
Leis of leaves, petals and roses long enough to reach their knees
Made with such care it keeps devotees starring even from
The prasadam hall
“Don't tug on Superman's cape” this one's name it fits in all around
Murkha and are on the recovery trail. His ankle has become a serious confusion now he's on the trainer other out to continue the service without a care. The pedalers are coming out of hibernation now with the sun out the past couple of days. Along the wharf road and under the first highway to heed the ratha-bhojana-vrksa's call the kalarupa is waiting to carry him back for the sandhya being greeted by the sloka slinger once again.
With chodders against the chilly night the green/orange dress offered on nrsimha caturdasi shines as they dance the evening away.
On the way to Vrndavana two parrots flew down
And landed on Mahaprabhu's hand
The subject of their conversation
Will surely save us
Chanting the holy names as he wandered through the forest to set the people free
This outfit has colors of an embroidered parrot or three
In the ancient Bengali texts It's verse 43
Leis of statice, mums and a rose or two ah the florist says the season is changing and narcissus are the first flowers to say “hello” as well as being the first to go
Busting loose to the main street over the first highway the dvitiya campa hatti is on the right and on the right is the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot. Some one goes by ridding a lawn mower if that don't beat all! Taking a left at the navapatra waving to the leaping monque back around to the stars of the morning. After that sight back to the reviewing stand of the cruiser king I take leave at the shop and Murkha goes on to the pedaler's ramp past the pitch and onto the wharf road. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa takes with pride the folded palms of Murkha and the kalarupa pulls him to the asrama. But in spite of the kalarupa's best efforts the little abuela from Venezuela sees Murkha and tells him he shouldn't be pedaling.
Om paramahamsa thakura is there to help the thakuras into their “lion on the chase” nightdress. The green and purple from nrsimha caturdasi is swirling free in the asrama by the sea. the sloka slinger has stoked the fire so high there's no need for chodders this evening that's still waiting for spring to come out of hiding.

When the thakuras had first come, oh how I still remember
How I hoped I'd get the chance to dress them up to dance to make
Gurudeva happy for even a day
installation made me worry, things happened in such flurry
carrying the dresser's orders “hey can't you hurry?”
and I know I nearly died when I heard mahaprabhu had fasted
All these years the feeling's lasted
When seamstress planned this dress she gave me the hint for the name “a tiara for the belt” she said
that brought the tune to my head
“miss America”
oh she couldn't take that anymore
so on the drawing board she took the crown turned upside down
and hid it never to be found
After some time on our own Gurudeva returned to his home
to tell us how he'd brought a girl from navadvipa but she's become flavored by the locals now
Leis of hyacinth and daffydills remind me of how despicable I am.
Oh how the rain came down pedaling along between the drops a little relief after the day before. in the tradition of making the circles just right and keeping elbows in. Form is the substance, huh? Pushing the pedals hard murkha and I aren't damp but are ready for the sun to come back as vijaya in his rain coat welcomes Murkha back for the sandhya.
Deep within the far off jungle tonight as the rain is letting up and promises to be gone for tomorrow. Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika -Giridhari are dancing now and waiting for the winter to move along.
Mr. tailor lets talk a little while
I was sent here by the seamstress, and have come many miles
You see it's time to make an outfit for the thakuras
They've got plenty of har and aruna
This one is going to be ganga-yamuna
Can you show some silver and a little gold
It'll be made for Mahaprabhu , on his birthday,
When “the moon is holding a rabbit”
That's what you call purnima so I am told
Yes that's good looking silver
And Giridhari's vest, Mahaprabhu's chodder
Also they'll have sashes that are gold
Just right Mr. tailor consider the cloth sold
Leis today of roses with some leaves stretched out
With stock mid length made with much heart beyond doubt
Over the main street to the big road smiling and waving to the go light's camera. (Old toffee nose doesn't approve of that sentence “Fragment! Fragment! He cries”) the purna ana is there with phalam. To the wharf road under the first highway back to the main street to the bridge over the first highway and to the dvitiya campa hatti. (His green crayon under the words he slashes every sentence must have subjects verbs adverbs vertebrae and invertebrate) the whalers are paying attention to detail at the top of the little hill. Going through the treacherous triangle there are a couple of tandems. At the shop I take leave and let Murkha take the corner to the pedaler's ramp speak to the bear and come back to the long and winding. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa is there for the bow and the kalarupa takes Murkha back to the asrama for the sandhya where a community servant greets him.
Hiranyana kasipu soft yellow and gold good for dancing even on the chilliest of nights as these last days of winter. Chodders are still on specially since the coach isn't here to build fires that last all night long.
Saint Patrick's Easter comes fashionably late
Long time waiting for the arati to begin
remember the devotees and the looks on their faces?
The way the English class was coming
Did they know what they were about to see?
Waiting for the moon to rise
Purple and yellow with embroidered flowers
Spring time arriving
Same color that the priests wear for Easter time
Long lei for Giridhari
Hyacinth, fuchsia, and snapdragons light and fragrant
Remember the speaker saying, “This is like our Saint Patrick's day”
Can Murkha come out to pedal? He still has to sneak out there are those that think his ankle isn't ready. So quietly over the main street and through the southland he and I go trying to stay undercover. A beast is stopped waiting to make a turn and motions Murkha and I around. He and I change plans and go on to the lion's park. There isn't anyone there so it's on to the village where the sufferers are getting into the water. Many pedalers out taking advantage of the daylight and the mild day there's one on a mission from who knows stopping at a bakery then there are two other roadies out for a friendly spin no teams are practicing but several individual members are out for tune ups a fixed gear freak dodges the traffic with an illegal smile and a quick wave to Murkha and I on the opposite side. At the shop I take my customary leave and Murkha lays low waiting to go through the treacherous triangle the redone road is full of beasts but he gets along to the tennis park where he makes the left to the toad road the basketball park is on the left and the navapatra is on the right the highway entrance there is open and he stops to talk noticing the time he heads for the wharf road and the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa likes his folded palms the kalarupa is hurrying him along for the hour is getting late
Om paramahamsa thakura couldn't quite get the mukuts on Mahaprabhu and Giridhari's topknots. Mahaprabhu's halo showed through until murkha came along to convince them to take their places. Creamy red and white the Chinese silk from Nrsimha caturdasi the touch that kills. Mahaprabhu brought his beauty and kirtan to end the demoniac mentality. They dance the night away with a fresh look at mukuts “deity worship means something new every day” sp used to say

I sit in meditation at the thakura vari
Janmastami is coming and a new dress too
Devotees are friendly at the math where the flag flies high
All kinds of rickshaw wallas they go pedaling by
Time is conspicuous by its absence
Kick off those sad shoes to let bare feet go on parikrama
An excuse to laugh and listen to what the devotee children says
The kids give a clue for the outfit for Janmastami day
“What about red and yellow maybe mango for Mahaprabhu? Do they have those colors yet?”
neither the three-legged dog nor the cat whose name is shadow
can carry a message to the seamstress
and all the people know that cell phones don’t work here
With leis of mums, roses, leaves and a sumanas or two offered by the lazy pujari’s hand
So red, yellow and mango it is from a long ago janmastami day
More manasa pedaling until the ankle returns the high way is open and lots gets done today then it’s time for the vaikalika and Murkha returns to the sound of the reveille horn
Baby blue, a heavenly nightdress with chodders for even though the calendar says that spring should be well on its way, old man winter refuses to yield.
Thakuras on their teakwood asana can put one in a trance
Without a care for outsiders evoke a stately dance
Question arises “would a red back drop make too much pop?”
“That might just make you want to get up and scream!
Do you know what I mean?” seamstress asks
Abuela made the leis with roses, orchids and roses
A loving task
On the manasa trail cause the ankle won’t allow anything more
The highway is open at the navapatra where pedalers of all stripes are congregated. Quick it’s time for the ratri kalina murkha reminds so dash away to the long and winding where the ratha-bhojana-vrksa turns him over to the kalarupa to get him there on time with the sloka slinger acting as the greeter.
“Shiver me timbers,” says coach it’s so cold that the biggest chodders are in order. He speeds to his kutir leaving murkha there to help them into their marakata Mani puri nightdress and tuck them into bed.