Wanting release from Maya’s prison make it home with my guru
Praying for his mercy I look into my heart
To see if I can find his presence there too
I know I won’t make it without change
Into the eternal land
Members of the asrama play a game
Spell it out plainly I’ll have to Diet Olive
Hyacinth leis with roses and daffy dills
What a beautifully fragrant thrill
Well i’m pedaling along from the asrama with Murkha on a break in the rain seeing a team from the old country
They cry out “you don’t look as you used to”
Answering back “I’ve been a diet olive”
then they said, “You look like you’re on a different plane now ”
so continuing to pedal Murkha says to me
just come along to the spacey highway and talk with friends there takes the time to tap into messages floating in the virtual air
over the first highway to the field of the clank of the aluminum bat and kirtaning with the whalers at the house that taught choc-0-lot to talk-a-lot taking the path to the left. I take leave and go on to the shop but Murkha he goes to the redone road. The tennis park is on his right like the harbor at the corner and since there isn’t anyone playing he goes on to the toad road. the navapatra is on the left just before the pitch. It’s still closed but people are on the tennis court there playing a friendly game or two. Back to the wharf road and this time under the first highway hearing the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa he goes to fold his palms and meet with the kalarupa for the sprint to the sandhya.
A lion on the chase another in the succession of nightdresses from Nrsimha caturdasi. Green and purple Giridhari’s coat floats as he swirls and Mahaprabhu’s chodder lifts a bit. In this way they enjoy the night hours ‘till the brahma muhurta
Look at the curtain are the Deities sleeping?
While the devotees sit and wait
Hear the phone ring the speaker will be late
So the devotees must sit and wait
Don’t know why no one told them how long it might be
Look at the pujari you that he’s ready
Still the devotees have to wait
This names the outfit Saint Patrick’s Easter comes fashionably late
As the devotees sit and wait
Chodders are this season’s hot color
For an ecclesiarch
Students remind us the snakes just left Ireland
Saint Patrick made his mark
Leis are of roses, petals and someone in the zinnia family
So today the devotees don’t have to wait
Rain has come again and Murkha and I are hold up between the drops. A little umbrella over that guy pedaling by he must not have the mantra for staying out of way of the drops. Along the beach there are no sufferers and at the harbor the boats are tethered. At the natasala I take leave and leave Murkha to dodge the drops back to the asrama via the ramp. The wharf road has the usual call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa Murkha folds his palms and brings the kalarupa to ward off any stray drops. Vijaya is at the path in his raincoat wondering what happened to his sanity.
Deep within the far off jungle from Nrsimha caturdasi once again the nightdress that came from down south. The chill in the air and the threat of rain can’t put a damper on their evening enjoyment
sit in meditation in the nath mandir
longing to see Gurudeva in the vyasa chair
environment is friendly where the flag flies high
lots of crazy rickshaw wallas go honking by
Curtain is closed for a few minutes in the Brahma muhurta
Mantras and japa chanted with incense in the air
pouring the pancamrta watching it flow between their toes
dressing them in fresh day clothes and comb their thick black hair
bring the hyacinth and gerbera daisy leis to the altar
Come laugh and listen to Murkha confuses his lines
Come take darsana of Gandharvika in her “short skirt” today
Murkha and I are watching the off to the races seeing the pedalers in their colorful spandex. Around the beach where the sufferers are getting some waves before the rain the geese are looking for a place to hide and the boats are coming in as the sun goes down rounding the corner I take leave and Murkha goes by the reviewing stand to the treacherous triangle beyond that to the ramp and the bear the wharf road is there for the call of the ratha-bhojana-vrksa bowing his head and the kalarupa leads back to the sandhya
The gold and yellow Hiranya Kasipu nightdress is soft just right for dancing with the rain coming in
Deities dressed in green and black this morning
Deep forest green with silver-grey accent
Got up just before mangala arati to dance on the altar
The best in vrndavana the shelter of all
Had a few friends over for Sunday dinner
Sandhya arati was bang on time.
With petal and calla lily leis the most attractive
Once having seen them nothing else can remain
Watching the raindrops flow Murkha and I are off to nowhere fast. Flautists and lecturers along the way set the pace for letting the imagination go wild. In the trees are some boys taking lunch. It’s the heart of the vaisnava that is the place to be that brings Murkha to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa to bow his head and the kalarupa is taking him back for the sandhya show.
And in the ninth the guardian appeared to extend to us all a hand to the land of dedication.