American Dohas

I
I looked outside and copied.
I looked inside and found.

II
I walked the roads that others said were true,
wore out my shoes—
then stood, and nothing moved.

III
The river spoke in names I could not know.
I drank the sound and left with the flow.

IV
All that I held has loosened from my hand—
dust knows the shape of everything we planned.

V
I called it loss, and turned away in grief;
time kept the name but quietly dropped the leaf.

VI
No teacher came, no thunder split the sky—
only a breath that did not ask me why.

VII
The house grew still when I gave up the door;
what I had sought was waiting on the floor.

VIII
Which star endures beyond 
the mind’s brief claim?
Light travels on and never says its name.