The first time I met Iman, I knew he was going to be something special. I was standing at the edge of exhaustion, by my husband’s hospital bed at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. We had just come through ordeal after ordeal—an operation that lasted 15 hours, days in the ICU, and barely a moment to breathe before another doctor entered the room and told me my husband needed to be rushed back into surgery due to life-threatening thrombosis.

I was already on the edge—physically, emotionally, spiritually. And then, he walked in.

Dr. Iman Taheri, a surgeon from Toronto. He entered not just with credentials, but with presence—compassionate, gentle, grounding. There was something otherworldly about him. Maybe it was the chaos around us, but to me, he looked like an angel. His energy was pure. He spoke with kindness. He radiated stillness. And when I found out we were both Persian—when I looked at him and saw a resemblance, even cousins perhaps—it all made sense.

It was only later I discovered his soul went far beyond the clinic. Iman told me he writes poetry—beautiful, mystical, Persian-rooted poetry. Suddenly I understood the quiet magic I felt in his presence. He carries the spirit of ancient poets, wrapped in a modern, human vessel that has seen both devastation and hope. He spoke of helping villagers and nomads in the deserts of the Middle East, performing surgeries where roofs didn’t exist and war painted the sky. He was healing people not just with hands, but with heart.

During COVID, Iman visited his sister in Toronto—and what began as a short visit became something greater than fate. That unexpected turn became his path forward. He began writing and sharing poems online. And the world began to notice. His words touched souls. His voice resonated. His presence once again, became healing—this time for strangers scrolling on a screen.

But what truly moved me was learning that, like me, Iman had a childhood dream of becoming an artist, a performer. That dream had lived inside him quietly all these years. I was overwhelmed by it—because I knew that feeling too well. I too dreamed of the stage, of telling stories, of being free. And I, too, had my journey disrupted—by the wrong artistic managers, by lost years and wrong turns. I know what it means to have the light inside you dimmed by others. And I promised myself—I wouldn’t let that happen to Iman.

Iman has something few people have: not just talent, not just life experience, but beauty— in every sense of the word. His face holds golden ratio features that echo the symmetry of classical art. His eyes are big, round, kind—and somehow mythical, even galactic. Eyes that pull you in and slow time. His lips, sculpted and soulful, carry both intensity and tenderness. And within him, the artist child still lives. He’s not performing because he wants to be seen—he’s performing because he wants to give.

We knew we had to support him. So we signed him to 852 Films Management. And this book— “Lost in Your Eyes”—is just the beginning.

This is more than poetry. This is a launchpad for a star who has already lived a dozen lives and still burns brighter. As he gets lost in your eyes, I ask you—get lost in his. Be enchanted. Be disarmed. Be healed. You are holding the first expression of a soul that was never meant to stay in one world.

Welcome to Iman Taheri’s universe.

Josie Ho
Founder, 852 Films