Benevolence, you are no stuttering fool.
You are the atmosphere of my content
in all things, like or not, you firmly rule
my pre-congesting state of life well spent.
How peacefully you bask while reflexes
of hate like wooden ducks on springs pop up,
rude opinions quacking at what vexes
overturn, duty-bound the loving cup—
—to spill. I like to think I multi-task
with nyet to this and yes to that, and yet
I sense you, bigger nesting doll: Relax!
What I believe, and more, I’m sure to get.
To see the best in all must, by degrees,
wed eloquence to certainty with ease.
© Elaine Stirling, 2016
The sketch inspired by the Kalevala comes