I was living a stone’s throw from Harvard U. in Cambridge, MA, in the midst of various emerging spiritual groups, mostly out of India.

A friend and I visited a group called Ananda Marga and met their group leader, a Harvard student named Ollie.

Blonde hair, thin, decent looks, average height, and blue eyes that seemed capable of holding the secrets of the universe.

Ollie’s head perpetually moved smoothly from side to side, and you knew he had attained some kind of advanced spiritual state. It wasn’t BS. It wasn’t an act. It was like something you’d see in an advanced sadhu in India.

Ollie was experiencing a perpetual manifestation of kundalini energy flowing from the base of his spine to the crown of his head.

I’d never seen anyone before Ollie who genuinely experienced that outside of meditation so powerfully. With kundalini energy, it’s common to experience such things in meditation and to always feel the energy rising outside of meditation to varying degrees – sometimes six feet above your head.

Never having experienced the full fruition of this energy, but having read Gopi Krishna’s account of his full-blown awakening, I can say such manifestations are only partial awakenings.

But I wouldn’t be surprised if Ollie attained a full awakening and cosmic consciousness in his lifetime.

Bob Boyd

Songbirds, such as sparrows, don’t have much of a chance to live long lives. Predators kill 70 percent of them before they reach old age.

How I hated to read about that. Sweet singing little birds’ lives snuffed out, always having to worry about being killed. Awful way to have to live.

How I hate that part of nature. How I wonder why a Creator set things up like that.

If I didn’t believe in a benevolent God, it would be easier to accept the tragic deaths of little singing birds. Though I wouldn’t like it, I’d reason that’s just the way it is.

But it saddens me that those little birds don’t have much of a chance in life, and always have to be fearful that a lurking predator is going to end them forever.

And I hate how there is so much carnage in nature.

Bob Boyd

I spy a ladybug
on top of my bathroom mirror.

Every so often, a ladybug
invades my fortified apartment.
I’m glad they’re not spies,
as far as I know.

She’s eyeing me now
and I know what she’s thinking.

“Um … is this some Caucasian mountain god,
tall and mountainous as he is?”

She sees me nick my cheek with my razor
and the tiny spot of blood that debuts.

She thinks to herself:
“Though this strange species
towers over me mightily,
it’s a lesser god than mine
because it bleeds.”

After her disparaging assessment,
she somehow, magically, walks down
the mirror like Jesus walking on water
and doesn’t fall off, as I or any living
human would, except maybe Jesus.

I see she’s preening herself in the mirror
and liking her reflection a little too much.
I never knew ladybugs were vain.

I’d like to kick her out of my apartment,
but it’s too cold outside,
and despite the fact she’s an intruder,
I don’t want her to freeze her ass off—
that is if ladybugs have asses.

So I just bid her farewell as I walk to my
computer and write this kind of ode to her,
while she’s probably still obsessing over
her looks in my bathroom mirror.

Someday I must school her on the fact
that looks fade and her personality is more
important than her fleeting looks.

Maybe tomorrow, if she sticks around.

Bob Boyd

The older I get the faster time goes by,
a year just passed, as if it were only a few months.
I’m getting older at warp speed, but I’ve reached a
point where I no longer care.
After all, at my age I’m sort of just hanging around
waiting to transition.
And my body, like an old, outdated machine, becomes
less and less efficient each year, stiffer and weaker.
So Time, keep going faster and faster, get me to the
spirit world sooner where I’ll be young and born again.

Bob Boyd

Though I live in a small city,
Greensboro, NC,
often at night when I go to
my car, I see rabbits.
It amazes me they live
in this city.
There are not any
forests nearby.
Yet they seem to survive
and even thrive.
I usually see them close
to my parked car.
When I see them I feel
moved to befriend them.
I softly whisper gentle
words to them.
But despise lingering for
a while, they run away.
Maybe some day ….

Bob Boyd

Suddenly, unexpectedly, I’ve
become interested in art.
From creating many images
with AI Image Generators,
and using various art genres,
I developed an appreciation.
For example, yesterday I
learned about Gauguin.
Originally an impressionist
but started his own style.
Limited fame in his lifetime,
lauded after his death.
Times of plenty of money,
times close to poverty.
But a true artist to the
end of his complex life.

Bob Boyd

When she reached age 77, her love
had gone out of her.

Maybe it was biological, her essence
dried up.

Maybe she had just given up on finding
lasting love.

I felt my love could have enlivened her
and revived her life.

But, alas, she didn’t see it that way,
preferred to play with her grandchildren.

More’s the pity for me and for her.

Bob Boyd

Walking around self-consumed,
partly because they have to be.

Their single lives the most important
in the human sphere.

Yet, it may be their lives are insignificant,
considering there are billions of them.

That’s the way I see it, and when I see
massive crowds of humans,

they seem of no more significance than
the insects crawling beneath my feet.

Bob Boyd

Is there a higher species than humans
and more technologically advanced?

Could that species be aliens,
and are they real?

I believe they are real and far more
advanced than us.

And I don’t mean just technologically.

I think it’s conceivable that they are in
higher states of consciousness too.

And I wouldn’t be surprised if they
make contact with us soon.

Bob Boyd