deep forest green trimmed in black with silvery gold elegant as ever seen crystal beads that jingle as they dance on the simhasana in ecstatic trance leis of narcissus and rose making a nest of fragrance in each and every nose cycle babble and i sprint the winding street hearing the leaves rustle and red

wing blackbirds tweet campa hatta on the right weaving thru casual cyclists in afternoon's light round the bout up beach hill bidding goodbye to early weeks chill folks with dogs in saint dagwood's park cheer us on to beat the dark but ratha-bhojana-vrksa needs our light to see our folded palms as we flee back to the ashram where a mellow fellow invites us to come see bells ceremony the lamp burns with light that's yellow at day's end they dress in purple shades "it's a miracle" night clothes soothing for their evening play

puckawalla likes to judge our gang how many names are we counting his total is so much higher and his sikha flies so high so many bonus bhaktas are close by orange and brown dress so elegant embroidered flowers growing from the sky amazing leis by a pinch maker my oh my cycle babble and i lace up our cleated shoes dress in whatever wintery gear we choose spin to the cement boat and mahamuni's post box laugh as we listen to the sufferers funny talks roadie and a mountain man are racing over beach hill but cycle babble has to turn back to wake the Deities late afternoon and the kernel of divine love is waiting ceremony of the bells is calling to the land of dedication where we walk standing on our heads in the evening the nightdress is it the end of time green and purple with silver trim come to mangle arati best way for the day to begin

conscious so high got to remember how many pieces in Srimati Gandharvika's sari after they're dressed put their leis on join in the kirtan the highest of songs cycle babble and i fill up our saddle bags was that the cannon ball or are we dead wrong street being repaired crew holding up stop signs but waving us through so we can keep cycling strong Maharprabhu, Gandharvika and Giridhari

getting dressed behind curtains drawn the forty pieces of her sari make it take so long ceremony of the bells sweeter than ever before kernel of divine love bringing us home back where we belong midnight sun is orange and pink wrapped up in chodders because it's so cold

wearing a feathered mukut with peacock colors embroidered feathers on his red kirta and dhoti Giridhari dances and plays his flute take leis of roses with lilies in the center and hang it round his shoulders and only a truly steel framed heart could resist the urge to serve cycling on out like world wide traveler keeping Mahamuni's post box on the right pedaling hard to stay in day's light through the lion's park and up the skater's hill watching the guys in their curious clothes getting their thrill down to where the opals are sufferers come from near and far fixing their boards to their bikes and trying to keep up with the team cycle babble and i are going along in between past the tennis park to the natasala and treacherous triangle seeing the beasts fuzzy dice on their mirror dangle the whalers sing out in rhyme over the first highway the sirens chime ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees us bow our heads gotta get the Deities out of bed one from the next phase welcomes us ceremony of the bells is a must in swarga mega they take their rest to be ready for mangal arati's fest

purple shades in the sky Guru Maharaja was born at midnight ninth day of the of moon mums the word 'bout the leis time for spinning the winding road be back to wake the thakuras best not be late come out of the cold round the hook of the point the sufferers know the score spinning free there's lots to see so much to explore sprinting's such a good thing it brings sunlight to the day natasala through saint dagwood's park beach hill happy as a lark round the bout church where the spinners go now remember the vaikalika show ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees us bow mahamuni's out of town as we see Giridhari's gopi dots above his brow ceremony of the bells "it's the touch that kills" that brings devotees from their shells mangal arati reveals the creamy white and red chinese silk

a new outfit is coming for Janmastami time is near and the cloth arrived the seamstress watched as the lines of the flowers bounced side to side red, mango, yellow and blue everyone knows who wears which color as well as what each dress might do

Gandharvika's sari may curl up or down explaining all this to arch the seamstress made a funny sound have you seen the rose leis with gerbera centers with spider mums too look it's the sun this warm afternoon cycle babble said let's get out and cycle soon there's time, i said, to get through lion's park before dark we'll climb the skater's hill count the points they score while they turn circles and handsprings on their boards all along the paved trail creeping up behind the team drafting we sail turning the corner at natasala through treacherous triangle easing by the market where the beasts are tangled respecting ratha-bhojana-vrksa we bow and pray crossing into the ashram greeted by mi ray bells ring kirtaners sing in the evening the lion laughs aloud with lemon yellow effulgence they'll please the mangal arati crowd

nrsimhacaturdasi coming together at the sandhya for arati the swami waiting for darsana asking where's the pujari gone i think he's gone to sleep came the answer leis of roses and gerbera centers still another rainy day cycle babble and i traveling between the drips from the curve where the opals are between the lakes the tennis park and the harbor round the corner natasala and treacherous triangle market has a straggling few ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees our palms fold true maharani again says it's the best all who come for the ceremony of the bells are blessed in synchronicity yellow mango and blue with effulgence of peacocks in view they take their rest or whatever they do

the cook said it looks l

ike the color of foam on ghee when put that way i could see that it certainly did have that aura on the cloth are little rust and avocado flowers the chodders and veil are so sheer one can see straight through them so they easily floated on the gentle breeze of their dancing mums with a few roses and a handful of lilies in the center it's a beautiful darsana to behold another day of rain drops falling cycle babble and i still feel the street calling and soon our dream of ride takes hold along the winding street without a worry to the point of the hook between the lakes and beyond around the corner past the cruiser king treacherous triangle and natasala and hearing the whalers sing market is closed 'cause of the rain through the southland bowing to ratha-bhojana-vrksa once again Mahamuni translates while we return ceremony of the bells and it's my turn performing while the kirtan goes on in the evening it's hiranya kasipu gold and yellow silk chiffon through the night they danced in our heads as i turned out the lights and invited them to take rest in their beds

smooth dancing actor and his friends

on the simhasana on their chodders and sari a hundred mirrors are flashing purple, yellow, blue, and green mundane dazzle slashing roses breathing like babies in the leis karatalas in three quarter time in the evening raga afternoon's sun calls us out to spin among the folks wet tires quietly shinning sprinting on and thru the cove fast and even pedal strokes round natasala through treacherous triangle and house of chocolate ratha-bhojana-vrksa with stout smile receives our bows with style we come in for ceremony of the bells panca pradipa and incense smells in that evening "deep within the far off jungle" dance through the night sacred mantras mumbled wakes them for the sunrise arati young folks make it seem more complete

yellow for luck on new year's day eye of the peacock mukuts and effulgence baby's breath and roses in the leis devotees sankirtan was so intense they danced and chanted before the altar mrdanga and karatals kept time cycle babble and i cycle in the season in rhyme round the point to the sufferer thakura see the lions by the natural bridge and the gulls flee over the railroad tracks circle spinner's church beach hill round the bout down the street Bhakta Blade is on his perch i take leave at the shop leaving cycle babble to meet ratha-bhojana-vrksa in his travel mi ray once again welcomes him in as the bells begin in the night talking like a pirate riding on a horse taking rest after the day has run it's course familiar colors today as devotees come to see pink and green, the arena har posse at first it seemed that each outfit had them combined after a recess it seems they had been on their minds rose leis with gerberas in the middle seems to be this weeks trend cycle babble and i spinning just a little to beat the dark and the drops falling in the air the main street round the corner thru saint dagwood's park from treacherous triangle whalers singing happy as a lark through the southland crossing by ratha-bhojana-vrksa in a full on sprint Kernel of divine love greets us with a squint ceremony of the bells continues with zeal pale green purple and silver chodders give them a warm feel following the angels by celebrating the saints giving the world a brand coat of transcendental paint leis of narcissus flowers punctuated by tulips topped by the usual gold jari mukuts cycle babble and i get out in a warmer afternoon swing through the opal's place before the temperature swoons round the corner and natasala by chocolate's house slipping through treacherous triangle quiet as a mouse passing by the market that is waiting for the weekend seeing what the whether man will send the southland sends us round offering respects to ratha-bhojana-vrksa picking the extra push we found Mahamuni is translating our effort into blessings for bells and the evening dressing a lion on the chase is purple and deep green on of those that looks new every time it's seen

i'll buy some white silk with red and black for trim six meters of cloth for Radhastami day to offer to her and the flautist who's sweet tune calls us all home not so far away he will relieve us of all of our sadness just dance in sankirtan and it won't take long then will be happy forever and ever by seeing the baby's breath and rose leis cycle babble and i spin the winding road hearing the bird's song life in the saddle singing along we go on happily cycling to the hook of the point, the cove and beyond over the bridge of the harbor on to natasala passing our days hearing of the divine play the natural bridge and treacherous triangle become mystical places by sri gurudeva's grace bringing darsana of the Thakuras to mind the whalers are pointing the way back respecting ratha-bhojana-vrksa who keeps us dry holding the rain in his hands greeted by mi ray who asks us to pray and start the ceremony of the bells pirouette as the kirtan swells in the evening baby blue is the nightdress offered for Radhastami too they dance all night long relieving distress come to mangle arati were numbers aren't few