Learning Patience
Essay poem of learning patience from one the earliest founders of Stoicism, Zeno of Citium.
Amidst the bustling city streets, a solitary man walked, his heart a drumbeat. His eyes, like ancient stones, held secrets untold, seeking wisdom, he wandered, both young and old.
Zeno of Citium, the stoic sage, sat by the roadside, age etched on his face. His cloak, threadbare and gray, whispered tales, of resilience, endurance, and life’s gales.
“Zeno,” the man whispered, voice like a breeze, “Tell me of your wisdom, unravel life’s mysteries.” The sage looked up, eyes piercing and deep, “Patience, my friend, is the treasure you seek.”
The man frowned, impatient, eager for truth, “Why wait? Why ponder? Why this endless pursuit?” Zeno smiled, weathered hands tracing the air, “Life’s lessons unfold when we learn to bear.”
He spoke of virtue, of reason, of inner calm, As the man shifted, restless, like a trapped palm. “But Zeno,” he implored, “I crave answers now!” The sage chuckled, “Patience, my friend, allow.”
Days turned to weeks, and still, they sat, The man’s impatience waned, like a fading chat. He watched the seasons change, leaves flutter and fall, As Zeno spoke of resilience, standing tall.
“Imagine,” said the sage, eyes fixed on the sky, “A tree rooted deep, branches reaching high. Storms may buffet, winds howl and rage, Yet it stands unwavering, through every age.”
The man listened, heart slowing its pace, as if time itself had found a tranquil space. He learned that wisdom blooms not in haste, but in quiet moments, where patience embraced.
And so, the solitary man sat by Zeno’s side, his impatience melting like morning tide. He pondered the stars, the moon’s gentle glow, as the stoic sage whispered truths, soft and slow.
In that stillness, he found what he sought, Not in grand revelations, battles bravely fought. But in the quietude of waiting, of being still, He glimpsed eternity’s dance, a cosmic thrill.
And when the sun dipped low, casting shadows long, The man rose, gratitude in his heart, strong. “Thank you, Zeno,” he said, eyes bright with grace, “For teaching me patience in this fleeting space.”
The sage nodded, a knowing smile on his lips, as the man walked away, lighter, wisdom’s tips. For sometimes, the greatest lessons we learn, are not in answers gained, but in patience earned.
