Naked at birth

Hollow at death

How empty can you be in between?

Do you yet understand 

to meet your creator you must 

turn out your pockets 

stuffed with false idols,

open your hands into the rain 

blister them in the sun-

until the pearl inside your heart

rises from the center of your palm

When this treasure is revealed

your confusions will be healed

Possessions are not pleasures

And, yet you are meant

to live like a Queen 

with no- thing

But this pearl

now filling the empty 

pockets of your heart