Stoicism Poem by Eric Bult

The weaverbirds resolve to build their nest,
As countless generations did before,
Above some water in a spot that's best
For safety over wide protective floor.
The male bird gathers base materials,
Then weaves precariously upside down;
But as he gathers more his managerial
Partner gives his work a quick shakedown.
Undeterred he gathers and continues
Their own love nest to construct apace;
Satsfied, she occupies the venue.
I know not where he finds his own space.

This process rings a bell in my own mind,
Such stoic humans would be hard to find.