Anil, wife Vidya, and their tow boys Aravind and Gopal have been overly kind to me. They provided for me the best sleep in months. Now we brave heat again for another worthy visit to the temple - the anniversary of our guru's birth.
I read my poem as an offering of thanks to our master, Srila Prabhupada, entitled "Holy Praises!"
Engrossed we were in toasts to boasts
Of Maya, the most of big-time ghosts.
In us you saw the obvious flaw:
We had this awe for the flesh and the raw.
We had this thirst for the very worst.
We were cursed (weak) like a bubble to burst.
To hell we would go, our life was so low.
You then came to show the best course is NO!
But YES to what's true, be fresh and new.
It's bhakti we do for the One who is blue.
Succeeding to endure Maya's overture,
With devotion mature on the track of the pure,
We do once a year lend an open ear
To words we hear that conquer our fear.
Beyond balmy blazes and dreamy dazes,
We hear golden phrases of your holy praises.
We hear the most beautiful words at your Vyasa-puja.