The "Silent" Migration

There are a multitude of sounds on our campus as the people migrate, seemingly desensitized, to and from classes, offices, meetings–whatever. They move in their silence across the campus to the tune of many and varied sounds:

Buses idling their bio-diesel rumble as would-be passengers board, or growling as they depart to maneuver their way down the bumpy campus streets of incredible disrepair
Motorcycles rocketing and shrieking their task of hurry
Cars, new and old, speaking their language of loud or absent mufflers and squeaky brakes
Lawn equipment and maintenance carts buzzing about as if there were a contest to see who finishes whatever-the-race first
Car alarms beckoning, only to have their familiar obnoxious sounds ignored
Trucks thundering as they make their way to deliver their wares
People talking seemingly to themselves--on cell phones
Skateboarders clacking
Cadet senior boots and shiny-shoe caps clicking
Flip flops flopping
High heels pocking
Urgent pedaling of bicyclists whirring past invincibly as if you are invisible
Vehicles belching their booming subwoofer mantra
Trains howling their impending approach
Planes announcing the departure or arrival of various travelers
Helicopters whipping through the air on an intense mission
Weather alarms signaling the potential approach of lightning
Intermittent interruptions by wailing emergency care vehicles
Musicians jamming their tunes in the plaza-echoing for all to hear–those who wish to listen and those who don’t
Students in their billboard t-shirts promoting causes for the organization they serve–believing or not
Cell phones, iPods, CD players plugged deep within their ears or headphones totally covering their ears-----to be taken away from it all----even from the sudden, random silent moments with an
occasional interlude of mockingbird, chickadee and cricket . . .

Where does one go to find the still small voice within, discernable only when nothing else prevails?

Would it now be considered “punishment” to subject one even for a moment… or two... or even ten... of silence?

Have we listened to the voice of the world so long that it has even muffled the voice of God?

Hearing is such a gift—especially when encountering the infrequent quiet moment of silence.