She let go of the reigns,
released the wild stallions locked
in her stable of expectations.
She let go of the judgments,
militant commanders whipping
the heart-mind into shape as if
nibbana could be reached this way.
She let go of equanimity as an ideal,
small and large waves crashing
against the shores of her heart
to navigate wider seas of experience.
She understood that true magic
is loving someone into a black box,
grieving their disappearance
and searching for secret doors,
then laying down the wishing wand
for what is here, what is real.