Cosmic Operator

In a little cube on a lonely star

A lonely operator receives and sends 

All the thoughts in the universe.

They make for some mirth
And splendid fuel - for him and the others 

In that world of famished operators. 

A woman slowly paces across a bare, dry plot

In a non-descript town somewhere on

The best thought kitchen of them all

And hears, like the faintest of sighs

A voice deep inside her mind.

I’m breaking the rules, it said

But I could hardly help myself 

Every thought that has ever

Been threaded through time

I’ve heard, parsed, known and imbibed 

Yet my thoughts have no existence 

Because no one knows mine.

I ought to just consume what I must

And get on with my job, though it seems

There’s enough in this dusty corner of yours

To last my world a while.

But it is hard to wield such power

And not reveal myself and what’s true

When your mind is all but an open door 

Waiting to let my shy greeting through.

After some deliberation, she remarked -

This is all rather unusual, and not very nice

To be thus disturbed on my meditative walk

But I see now that you’ve been waiting long

So unless you’re hungry, let’s talk.