Coming for darsana presenting ourselves for service
To Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari
It’s gurudeva’s mercy
When the curtain opens someone calls out loud
“Sue nila Vasana!”
Oh what a beautiful blue dress
Mango orange with green chodder and belt for Mahaprabhu
Yellow with purple ones for Giridhari
Hari Nama sankirtan won’t be long
‘Till we’re back home
Roses, petals and snowball flowers in the leis
this fine sight will change our lives
set our minds free
In the afternoon the rain cleared long enough to talk with some friends in the southland. Murkha and I went on past Mahamuni’s post box up to the campa hatti. The merchant gave some more petals in a black bucket that attached to the seat post. Along the beach to the navapatra for some fruit and kaju. At the corner of the toad road and the tennis park I take my leave and Murkha spins away for the long and winding. The Ratha-bhojana-vrksa is calling out for Murkha to come and quickly fold his palms before joining the kalarupa on the chase to the sandhya where the raindrops are forming just as he passes Vijaya.
OPT is there for helping Sri Guru-Gauranga-Gandharvika-Giridhari into their “Prahlad-a-dad” nightdress. He sings of a referee as Murkha drops the silas outfit on the floor that called a penalty for “giving the business” to another player. Giridhari’s necklace is causing much trouble this evening as the pieces come off and have to be looked for several times so they can take rest quietly

There’s a sparkle on the Deities’ outfit today
Pink and white with effulgence
Hyacinth and roses in the leis
Silver jari hars with red stones scoring some contrast points
Opt leaves putting Giridhari’s mukut on to me
How good it feels! Sukala Sakti love above power after all traverse on the beat of his mrdunga
To Float on the waves of blissful kirtan
Then chanting japa soft and low

Now pedal away murkha to meet me in the southland
to answer as the near friends warm calls
And now bound for the village going through the lion’s park
Pedaling successfully knocking the cobwebs out of Murkha’s brain
Off on the fog near the beach where the sufferers count the waves
And the geese honk with joy for the rain
At the natasala I take my leave and Murkha rounds the corner to see the cruiser king and come back through the treacherous triangle where the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot has it’s parking lot packed. The long and winding is there with the ratha-bhojana-vrksa calling him to bow his head and take the kalarupa takes him to the sandhya and the muni is greeting him.
Oh deer dough have you seen Krsna? That’s this nightdress’ name. in pale green and silver they dance the night away.