Cycling through Paramatala at the speed of the mind
When seen by the puckawala who says “I dress way better than you”
Murkha says “ some people got form and some got substance”
P.W. says “ I don’t know what kind of substance you’ve got”
Then we dropped him so bad he could no longer be seen
Murkha Lets the breeze blow the cobwebs out of his brain
Whole rose Leis with a few petals and leaves
With this wonderful vision any one will go home who believes
Puckawallas never drink coffee
So you give them what you can
Haribol jal is the choice
To bridge the gap without going over the edge
Velvet coats for Mahaprabhu and Giridhari
Srimati Gandharvika wears her traditional blue sari
What a mystic mood hedge
Funny flowers of all kinds odds and ends
Leis for the season that has been
Guru krpa allows
meditation on nayanam asru dharaya
spinning to the main street passing the post box
along the beach where the sufferers trash talk
I take leave at tennis park while Murkha sprints over
First highway’s leaf like clover
RBV calls out and murkha follows
While kalarupa chases Murkha remembers Gandharvika’s palo
Sandhya is ready and waiting looking so fine
Knowing that Murkha will arrive in time
Devotees came to the asrama
Back in the foothills
To join in the kirtan
It was Gaura Purnima time
Simha rasi at the birth moment
Simha lagna in the jotish cakra
Flower mukuts with blue and pink clothes
Desire for service grows
Yellow and saffron roses Painstakingly arranged
Make the thakura’s leis
Along with the lot coming from this vision consciousness will raise
Simha rasi at the birth moment
Simha lagna in the jotish cakra
A great personality will appear
Racing the sun murkha and I are sprinting past lion’s park
Mothers and their children out for a lark
By the campa hatti the skaters in their winter gear
Looping the loop flouting the ground in the best of cheer
Along the beach between the lakes
By the harbor and tennis park leaving cruisers in the wake
I take my leave at the shop
But Murkha can’t stop
He’s heard the RBV’s call
And knows it’s time to haul
Kalarupa chases him back
While some Owls shriek
And hand brakes squeak

It sandhya once again
Candan grinding rats
Now are also wearing night watchman’s hats
Know where where Murkha has been
Celebrate the service mode
The Thakura’s have brought him home
Babaji is on a different colored horse
Talking like a pirate
And entering Marakatamani puri
That’s the nightdress’ name of course
Emerald green and hot pink
They’re ready for rest I think