[This from a hard copy made and distributed in 2008.]

I was an old papyrus, a birch bark, a palm leaf
Half crumpled, unwritten upon.
He picked me up, smoothed and polished me,
Wrote on me
A mere dot.

From the dot I emerged
A full person,
The dot undeleted
Shown yet brighter.

I now spend life times
Reading the dot
Written upon me

And I go searching for other half-crumpled
Unwritten upon
Papyri, birch-barks, palm leaves
To write the dot on
So that other full persons may emerge
To read the dots,
And to write them on again.