“A Mere Flutter", a poem excerpt
We met during a quiet moment after a busy morning with patients. A second-year resident, she would become chief resident in three months.
She shared she was often asked to step into leadership roles but didn't actively seek them out. "It feels different when you're not making the choice," she reflected.
We paused for a moment of silence at one point. Afterward, she admitted feeling uneasy and a quickening need to speak. "Do you know what a flutter in utero is," she asked. "I feel a flutter in my neck when it's silent." However, she admitted to appreciating and recognizing the intention behind it.
Residency was challenging, and there were times when it felt chaotic. She found solace at home in a self-care sanctuary adorned with pillows and blankets she called the "pleasure corner" and spoke of how her family was drawn to its serenity, but "they know it's off-limits," she smiled.
When discussing the poem, she said she wanted it to be an honest look into residency life and her journey through it. "I want to reflect on it in the future, see my growth, and feel proud of myself."
Certified Listener Poet D’ete Blackshire
KNN Residents
Spring 2024
Mere Flutter
before i was "I "
before i had voice
i was a mere flutter
in the silent womb
a movement of sound
a language
sonic
when flesh finished forming
and a body shaped
i emerged from the canal
wailing
they say
i arrived fluent
in leadership
destiny feels different
when your will is behind it
i say
i was just being me
and didn't have a choice
i envision the day
when i feel
like the driver in my bones
but for now
my "I" is a giver who cares
whose words are balanced
if i have a native tongue
its grammar is trust
and it speaks me into corners of self-love and sacred rest on those tired days when im clothed in burnout & second guesses
held by the pleasure
of meeting my needs
i give attention to pause
cushion my limbs in plush blankets
ground my feet on cool wood floors
exhale my chaos to
inhale the care i
aspire to offer
so my fingers skimming over a subtle ridge on a pillow
is a moment about weaving
instead of borders
a moment about well-being belonging to no one
but a privilege
of being US
intertwined
interdependent
if the sounds of my threads
must be colored
let them say they hear the coming of a Wayshower since it’s my truth that leads me
and it's a healthy truth
rich in cause
connection
grace and grit
and someday
i will say
to the flutter
in the silent womb
that propeller to the frontline
I am a healer
no lands are more worthy
of devotion
