Never letting go (of religious programming), or Agnostic lament
Despite my default atheism, I still find
myself stubbornly wanting to give into
the urge to spell the word Heaven
with an upper case H. To clasp my
hands in undulating prayer, at the
dinner table or just before I sleep. To
contemplate the afterlife and who I
might meet there. And to find the
company of other atheists dry, and
pontificating/mocking.
I wish that I could decide on an
answer to The question. The options.
But all I can say with any certainty is, I
rule nothing out.
Claire Sexton is a poet and writer who has lived in Wales, London, and Berkshire. She is a librarian by trade and suffers with long-term depression and anxiety. She has been published in Ink, Sweat and Tears, Foxglove Journal, Amaryllis, Amethyst Review, Allegro Poetry Magazine, and others.
