Lost Baby Poem & Someday I’ll Love Leila Chatti

Someday I’ll Love Leila Chatti

after Frank O’Hara, et al. 

 

Take heart—the lilacs are yours

as much as anyone’s; you need never

audition for spring. What delights

delights in you. What is luminous

beckons, and makes room. Look—

there is this goodness 

in you that has no debt

and no end. There is this goodness, though 

your goodness is not requisite

to stay your while this side of dirt.

Have you noticed? The stars 

do not spell suffering; 

there’s no prophecy in that disorder 

of infinite dark, no script. 

Misery is not your inheritance.

Your hurt in time will soften

like green beneath

the presence of deer.

If belief’s beyond, just be

until it’s here. You’ll see. 

The sacred inside

is not extinguished. 

Blood is the mother 

of blessing and your veins 

run hot with God.

Bless your abundance

of unwieldy feeling! Bless

the holiness of the hole

of your need! Bless, too, this absence

 

of apology. For your tenderness

is what tethers you

to the exquisite 

terrors of living, and living’s

all there is. Keep on, keep on.

The smallest voice you have speaks

your most important things. 

Are you there?

If you’re listening, I think it’s all right

to take a breath now. If you’re there,

I think it’s all right.

 

Leila Chatti is a Tunisian-American poet and author of Wildness Before Something Sublime (Copper Canyon Press, 2025) and Deluge (Copper Canyon Press, 2020), winner of the Levis Reading Prize and the Luschei Prize for African Poetry and longlisted for the PEN Open Book Award. Her honors include multiple Pushcart Prizes and a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts. She teaches in Pacific University’s MFA program and lives in Cincinnati.