“Lost at Sea ” and Other Poems, by Shirin Zeyaei

Sacrilege

I could sit here
And write to you,
Verse
After 
Verse. 
About the gardens encased in light
And the hallways echoing with song. 
Thrumming with words of worship

And I could sit here 
And write to you,
Verse
After sacrilegious 
Verse.
About the ivy I plant
To climb along the steeple 
And the bells I toll at dawn.
I could and I could and I could.

Though I could not
Whisper about you. 
Veni. Vidi. Vici.

For Persephone 

I came.
Shivering, destitute
From barren land
Onto arid soil.
A victim of a
Mournful Winter.

I saw.
Gentle hands and
Soothing murmurs,
Coaxing the tulips 
To peek out of hiding.
An unwilling participant in the
Creeping Spring.

When she turned her gaze upon me,
Streaked with ivy and vine
A luscious green of the heralding season,
I fell,
Conquered 
By her smile.
Lost at Sea 

The anatomy of
Her
Is made of drops.
A liquid often
Forbidden 
To the tongue.

She is made of
A night tempest amid
Rousing sea.
Waves clamor,
One atop the next,
To break desperately 
Along the bow of her lips.
Her eyes offer solace
The only lighthouse in a starless sky.

She is made of 
Raging waves, and
Curved shore.
Drop after drop,
The only safe harbor
In the dying night.

Shirin Zeyaei is an Emirati Marketing graduate with a minor in Architecture from the American University in Dubai (AUD). She is a writer and has been from a young age, writing fantastical stories about her toys going on adventures. In recent years, Shirin describes herself as a “poet in progress”; having recently discovered and embraced a love for poetry, she spends her time experimenting and toying with different words until they string into the perfect image. Shirin’s next literary hope is to someday publish her work, whether a poetry book or a full-length novel.

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