Brainstorming Poem by Janet Budd

The storm falls on the tar like coloured glass
Bouncing. Shining rubber boots sheath small feet.
A tartan umbrella shields my head.
The drab school Mac makes my outfit complete.

Trembling white skies send me a rallying call.
Lightening charges the nucleus of my brain.
Some irresistible urge pushes me out
The door. I breathe in deeply, smelling rain.

So, feral free, I tramp abandoned streets.
Disrobed of time, my destination no place.
A wild child, unmissed, unchecked, unconcerned,
Under a compelling spell. Uneasy space

Vibrates the aura carried on my sleeve.
A whip crack spear shoots bright about my head.
But drinking danger, smiling, I walk on
Easily. With trust in elemental Gods I’m fed

The sustenance that makes me feel replete.
In conversation with a friend, she asks,
Will I visualise what I aspire to be?
I, mulling for some days upon this task

Get nowhere. I can not see. Then thinking
On a child out in the rain, a sweetly
Smelling, untamed compelling image makes
Itself in me. There I am! Completely!

Does this small child push through rain’s sparkling veil?
Does she remain enthralled, whilst I grow old
Within a universe apart from hers?
Waiting in the moment to be recalled

She comes so bright in brilliant rain washed light.
My little spectre once more thrives in me.
Inhales flowing joy, laughs irreverently,
Steps out with courage, worships valiantly.