Shahriar Shahriari

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Short Poems


God & Religion





Soul Journey






Poems - On God & Religion - Group 1
On our Relationship with the Divine


  1. The River & the Ocean
  2. The Saint & the Penny
  3. Mystical Wine
  4. Foetus
  5. Spirituality
  6. The Vine & the Wine


The River & the Ocean

Once upon a time, a fish in the ocean
Asked me about the river's notion.
I told the fish that the river
Water to the ocean deliver.
The fish scoffed at my logic
To fish it was hopeless, tragic.
Fish said ocean makes the river
The river returns to its life giver.
It is absurd; you must stop
To think the ocean needs a drop;
The ocean fills the river's cup
And puts the Ark on mountain top.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
July 17, 1997

The Saint and the Penny

I heard the story of a saint
The light of God for her was faint
But with much faith, her God she'd ask
What is the deed, what is her task?
She heard her God say in her head
"Leave everything, pretend you're dead."
Straight away she left her bed,
Upon the road, needing some bread;
Left everything but a penny
To buy some bread, but not many;
She heard her God speak again
"To that penny, slave remain!
Where is thy faith? Have you any?
How can you trust a single penny?
If ye have faith, have total faith
This is what unto Thee I saith!"
Our saint, our friend, swift and fast
Into the distance that penny cast
And in her God put all her trust
For in sainthood, this is a must.

I am no saint, not even faint
With but a penny, my future paint;
Yet in truth, all I pretend
Is but a mirage, fake in the end.
Ghostly visions of future send
Away; and to my God's will bend;
And have full faith without debate
The only God, omniscient, great
Will be with me in desert heat
My hand will hold, my face will greet.
Penny or pound make no difference
No longer will sit on the fence;
I will let go of future fear
Live in the now, and right here.
I need not be even a half-saint
No amount of money my soul shall taint.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 11, 1997


Mystical Wine

Along my path climbing this steep incline
Driven by passion of intoxicating mystical wine
The only hope, wish and desire of mine
To see the face of God, God's light upon me shine
And I continue surrendering to the will of divine
And proceed if God this wish of mine decline
For this mystical wine, serving the divine, my only line.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
April 20, 1997


In hypnosis I could relate
To my prenatal state
Comfortably perched, I was a foetus
To worldly good and bad, oblivious.
My lifeline, umbilical chord
Nourished me as though I was a Lord;
I was nourished there by blood
My mother's milk, drowning flood.
Dark it was, comfortable, warm
I didn't need a holding arm,
All I heard was a muffled hum
I saw nothing, to touch was numb;
I was an ocean creature
Constantly changed every feature.

Going back to that state
In no way could I relate
To the process that gave me birth
Nor ways of life upon the earth.
If someone described the sea
There was no way that I could see,
Nor could I relate to the motion
Of the unbounded ocean,
To lightening and thunder,
Dry deserts and yonder,
Forest green and mountain high,
The beautiful curves of a thigh,
To feelings and sensuality,
To this earth, this reality,
To music, or the priest,
The joys of a wedding feast,
Children playing in the park,
Twinkling stars, midnight dark,
Dusk and dawn were all the same,
Oblivious was my frame;
At least a thousand other things
Each sadness or joy brings,
To me, the foetus, all the same
That's how it is, no-one's to blame.

Later that day a story was told
A sage that lived in times of old

Died in this life, his spirit fled
His soul his mortal shell thus shed.
Inside a dark endless space
Emerged a light with much grace;
Through this womb his soul fled
With confusion to grace was led.
Into a new space was born
His old reality was torn,
His spirit leaving this earth
To new adventures gave birth.

After a while he was returned
His human frailties were burned.
To everyone a world he told
Shining bright, pure as gold,
A world in which no-one gets old
All are loving, courageous, bold;
Of pure love, beauty and grace,
A world in which there is no space;
At least a thousand other things
Each of which wonder brings,
To my mortal frame, its all the same
That's how I am, no-one's to blame.

In mother's womb, foetal state
Sensual experience cannot relate;
In mortal life, my foetal soul
Cannot relate to divine whole.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 11, 1997


I remember the time I became interested in spirituality
Everywhere spiritual window-shopping, trying every modality
Tried the old thought, as well as the "New Age"
Read many books, turned many many a page;
Found a "Guru", sought the wisdom of that sage
False it was, trapped myself in my own cage,
Disillusioned, disappointed, broke out in rage,
Healed my anger, the wisdom from the experience my wage.

Still I continued on my heroic quest
Spent much time to sit, think and rest
And discovered that all my window-shopping, my search
Hand-me-down from others, even the "New Age" church,
Was the wrong way to look upon a spiritual quest
It is neither the discipline of the East, nor science of the West
It is simply the mastery of an art in my own way,
Be, learn, step along my path, even in the way I pray.
Simply allow my talents, my flower within
Grow, flourish, and bloom, purify me from sin;
Embraced by divine light, or any other means
Purge my dross, my morality I cleanse.
Spirituality is not something I achieve, attain or reach,
It is a way of life that I can learn, but not teach.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 2, 1997

The Vine & the Wine

I am holy, thou art divine
I belong to Thee, and thou art mine
I am the grape, thou art the vine
Thy fruit is grape, and mine is wine.
But holy wine is just a sign
Of vine divine, further up the line.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 30, 1997

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