BY: HASTI GOPALA DASA (ACBSP)
Light morning rain cleared mist to see
Destiny’s coach pushing a box along the walk.
Seeming to move at an effortless pace
In his brand new white canvass shoes.
On solid white rolling rubber rimmed wheels
Came the treasure painted white as chalk.
His loosened white sika moves in the wind
Like an unraveled cotton fuse.
Dressed in a white cotton kirtah and dhoti
Wearing Tulasi beads and a wide white hat.
Tilak marks his forehead nicely
While his bead bag moves side to side.
At six foot three with the stride of a giant
Fit for sixty and no room for fat.
Jambavan Dasa now retired for service
To Srila Prabhupada everyone’s guide.
At their apartment his wife baked biscuits
Made for Krishna and Prabhupada.
Auspicious and delicious like macaroons
They strengthen body and satisfy soul.
They dedicated their lives to the distribution
Of prasadam, books and names of God.
Practicing and struggling their lives to teach
That love of God is life’s true goal.
Lila Katha and her husband Jambavan
Serve as part of a sankirtan team.
Their incomes reduced by retirement
Free from family to a large degree.
They are now assisting the city
By fulfilling the sankirtan dream.
Three devotee families helping each other
In their service tirelessly.
A soft sweet breeze is finding all
The morning sun is making it’s way.
“Dancer” is up early in anticipation
Her little “Bountiful” greets with bark.
Since springtime when the devotees arrived
She and others decided to stay.
Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays they serve
All they can at Moss Fern Park.
“Hare Krishna, Glories to Srila Prabhupada”
Dancer greets Jambavan now her friend.
Bountiful in wiggle form panting
Is whimpering for his treat.
Tossing two cookies from his pocket
Little Bountiful is growling pretend.
Taking a water bottle from the cart
Jambavan is taking a seat.
On an old stone wall by the war memorial
Near the park he has stopped his cart.
Some gentle chatter with old lady Dancer
Will sometime lead to laughter.
Under the shade of the large old willow
They begin to prepare with heart.
Wonderful treasures from the great white cart
Always give joy forever and after.
Each fine crafted groove allows access
To all the cupboards, drawers and shelves.
Kartalas, tambourines’, maracas’, bells
Give company to packs of incense.
While locals are gathering at Moss Fern Park
Regular students start a kirtan themselves.
Unfolding a small white table with plate
Dancer gifts sweet cookies by the fence.
His whole life spent a plumber by trade
Jambavan still expresses with a brush.
Now he’s opening a long neat drawer
The length of the cart but thin.
Inside lays assortments of paper and canvass
Moving sorting and deciding no rush.
Some of his students gathering close
As he picks cheaper stock to begin.
Dancer reaches to close the drawer
Then moves cookies from cart to her tray.
Photos of Prabhupada in many places
Of kirtans and Narada Muni.
Plastic protected in pouch at the front
In a white bag of canvass they stay.
Held in place with shiny brass rings
Always packed by his daughter Varuni.
Eight tins of powder paint and white
From a cart side cupboard they’re moved.
With paper, brushes and mixing containers
To Jambavan’s love of creative plans.
Large arching water from the drinking fountain
Is quenching guests with colors approved.
Who will paint their Krishna first?
Eagar clashing containers in hands.
In the midst of joys a waggle horn wakes
Making way for the approaching team.
Painted chocolate brown, large on both sides
The maha mantra is now raising some cheers.
Through windows some kartalas sing with drums
From an aged long van colored cream.
Parking by the wall doors are opening complete
All glories for prasadam that nears.
Worn filled cardboard boxes of baked goods
Covered in red gingham with devotional service.
Shipping now to a shaded far place
Near the kirtan by Dancers white table.
In spite of the warm triumphant delight fill
New guests always sway a little nervous.
All souls touched on this Saturday morning
Hare Krishna living is no longer a fable.
Kanea Prabhu and his wife Vrnda Devi
Remove with smiles an old canvass roll.
The devotees service is now quickly seized
By all manor of guests in a rush.
Twenty feet across with Aum in the centre
Spiritual artists have taken their toll.
The canvass was donated by the artist David
A floor studio for pencils, pastels or brush.
Grabbling expressives accenting wide giggles
Adds spice to the scene of the chorus.
The canvass settles as a mothers cover
A familiar place now shared with others.
Papers passed around with colors and paint
Animating colors round the circle before us.
Photos of Prabhupada and pictures of Krishna
Distributed by new bhakta brothers.
Old lady Dancer spent her life in the theatre
She traveled wide with song and dance.
Retired now to Prabhupada’s service
For the devotees to co-ordinate their plans.
Jambavan was showing his paintings of Krishna
As she walked by she gave them a glance.
That was their very first meeting last year
Every month now their service expands.
Lila Katha with son and her daughter
Are now parking their van on the street.
Vallabha Caitanya and his wife Parajota
Assisting with supplies and paint.
The prasadam boxes are emptying fast
Steady kirtan dancing, the incense suite
Sun is higher now, all refreshed by the fountain
All souls in bliss, none with any complaint.
Some homeless, retired and children with mothers
By Jambavan’s painting the first mesmerized.
Anything used to serve Krishna it says
Even artists materials when used in a rush.
To illustrate Krishna or Prabhupada’s mercy
All creative supplies become spiritualized.
“All glories to Srila Prabhupada!” their hands now raised
From their hearts to paint they cry… “Spirit Brush!”
Speak Your Mind