Thomas the Rhymer

If I spend enough hours
playing guitar under this tree
I’ll meet a woman
who will take me away.

Given enough time in the wilderness
every troubador imagines her.
Old tales tell of her: she’s the queen
of some fool place and can be

alternately ugly and gorgeous
like pretty much everyone else.
Rumor has it that if she chooses you
you’ve got to stay with her until

you learn her lessons — again,
pretty much like anything else.
In fact, everything about the story
sounds like an everyday life,

which makes sense if you think
myths are all about explanation
and not magic. In the story, the singer
comes back and can see the future,

but I suspect the truth is
that the singer comes back
and so much time has passed
that everyday things look so new

that he understands
what’s in front of him better
than the rest of us can who have been buried
in the details for all our lives.

So: a woman comes
and holds you just long enough
to make it seem that time stands still
and you can take advantage of that

to reinvent the way you are in the world.
It doesn’t sound odd to me. It has happened to me
a dozen times or more. It’s why I’m still sitting
under this tree.