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