Today, I feel agnostic.
How do I know He exists?
I want to break away.
But my mother continues to insist to pray
while she tells me to stay.
How can he, with all these twists and turns?
How do I know he even hears me when all I feel is pain?
My mother tells me to have some faith and hold on.
But I don’t want to be grasping at small straws for eternity.
I try to shrug it off as I walk into biology.
Such a precisely painted canvas: the human body.
So carefully crafted from the inside out.
I start to remember.
I dive sharply into the water.
I pause to float and forget:
water molecules,
two hydrogen atoms,
one oxygen atom.
Silence and molecules.
I feel Him all around me.
Proof is all around me.
And I remember.
This piece was published under The Ubyssey's Creative Non-Fiction Corner. Want to submit a personal essay, short story or poem? Subscribe to our features newsletter for monthly writing prompts under this column.
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