

Excellent!

THE MIDAS TOUCH
I am no Midas
yet everything I touch now
acquires new meaning
Is it an artist’s vision
or a poet’s call and yearning?
LIAR MIRRORS
change seeps in
imperceptibly
entrenches
itself in
deep psyche layers
mirrors lie with the same face
PRESSED FLOWERS
memories unfold
-a pressed flower in the book
crushed before its time
I strive to read stories etched
on petals, not the pages
BEYOND THE RAINBOW
rainbows show
multiple layers,
complex truths
in seven
predefined colors
-I look for what lies beyond
~~~
Reena Saxena is a former banker, coach, and writer from Mumbai, India. Published works are available on Amazon – When Time Stopped (Fiction), Com Pen Di Um (Poetry Anthology), Life As It Happens (Poetry Anthology), Basic Banking for Debt Recovery Agents, and E-books on Money Psychology available on the MoneyGoalz website. This is Reena’s first feature on
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The Talk – The Walk – Every time you leave home words to live by
Last night, I watched the first episode of the Emmett Till Documentary for the second time. It’s the true story as told by people who knew this young man. Emmett Till was born in 1941. At this time in 2022 he would be celebrating 81 years of life. Instead, at the young age of 14 her was lynched in what Martin Luther King stated that it “might be considered one of the most brutal and inhuman crimes of the twentieth century.”
This incident resulted in a short-lived life because of prejudice. I believe that if a white child had whistled, it would have been laughed off as cute. In 2022 it would have been plastered all over social media as funny.
Therein lies one of many differences. The very most a white child would have gotten was a reprimand, or a talking to, but never a lynching. Never have his life taken.
So, let’s do that fast forward to today. I was talking with a black mother of two yesterday. One is an adult son and the other is an eleven-year-old daughter. I was telling her about The Talk project we are working on in the Garden of Neuro. She thought it was a great idea and offered more input. She informed me that this is about more than a talk but a whole life, day-by-day, when your child is reminded about how to hold up their character in society. When her children walk out the door, they have rules to live by. The rules that black children follow are not the same rules that white people tell their children. I know. I am a white parent.
The white parent says, look people in the eye to show confidence. The black parent says, be cautious about looking white people in the eye as they may say you are threatening to them.
The white parent says, offer your hand to shake a man’s hand. The black parent says, don’t be the one to offer a handshake, but shake the hand if it is offered.
The white parent says, stop by the store on the way to school and pick up a treat. The black parent says, stop by the store on the way to school, get your treat quickly and take it to the register. And be sure to keep your hands where they can be seen.
Emmett Till went into a store and whistled. It cost him his life. It was not his fault.
Flash forward to Trayvon Martin, who is 2012 lost his life at the age of 17. He was walking down the street, an innocent young man— shot because he was walking while black.
What is the difference between these two young men? One death was 77 years ago and the other was ten years ago. Another has and will continue to happen until things change.
Did you know that Emmett Till had “The Talk” given to him? Yes, he did. His own cousin spoke about it in the documentary. That’s the point. The talk about how to conduct oneself when walking out the door, and add social media indoors today— It is, as my friend stated yesterday, more than a talk, but a life you have to live and breathe each day.
Some may wonder why this white woman wants to hear about a talk that BIPOC have with their family members and friends. Anyone who truly knows me knows that my life has never been about black and white. It has always been about people. It has always been about my study of people and concern that people learn to get along. It is important – and I will speak from my own sociologist experience – that we understand what is going on in others’ lives, so we can be more compassionate, so we can make this a better place to live, so that we can be a part of the warm, love-filled environment that was meant to be. And if I appear to wear rose-colored glasses, so be it. Give me ones with purple frames.
I want to read these stories that I cannot tell. I want to know what people of color are dealing with day by day. I want to be inclusive in this life. And this is why I want to read these stories.
Do you have a story to tell? Please send it to the Call for Submissions for The Talk. This is open to BIPOC and their families and friends who have experienced the talk, the way of life, the rules for living. We want to hear them.
By the way, my friend also said something that I have been saying for a long time. The young people these days are going to change the world, and it will be a better place where we will get along. Let’s start with the talk and let’s be a part of that change.
Click here to go to Garden of Neuro Call for Submissions for The Talk

Happy Friyay and TTOT! Let’s get started!

Thank you so much for publishing my poetry, Susi.

Memories Sweet Taste
Taste the memories
Harvests after sweat and spade
Earth has its own soul
This Thing About Trees
leaves tangle in her hair
from aging trees
roots locked
in shared vibrations
spring brings growth
rings stretch the girth
age is crowned with colors
changing in time
sangria scented lips
tease in her shade
youth finds folly
yet, the wisdom
of the sage
overseer
prevails
there is no way for youth
to escape the elder court
its shadows and arms
hold all there is to know
about the beating
of the drum
of the heart
There Was A Night in Raleigh
Twinkling little lights
captured my attention
stars about the night
A celebration
clinking glasses
over charcuterie
I walked to the window
once formalities are done
I gaze downward
My eyes are drawn
to the thrift shop
on the corner
Bright lights spill
to the…
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