A Piece of Seafoam and a Sip of Pepsi
a poem about what god is
Today is the last Wednesday of April. It’s also the day before what would have been my Great-Grandpa Sherman’s 123rd birthday. To celebrate him and the end of National Poetry Month, I share a poem inspired by the place that birthed my love for water, stirred my creativity, and sparked my curiosity about the Creator and Creation. It’s a place made known to me by Grandpa Sherman.
This new poem began on a Sunday in mid March when a preacher referenced a podcast conversation between Fr. James Martin S.J. and Gregory Maguire, the author of Wicked, in his sermon. Maguire shared about the nun who instructed him and his first grade classmates to draw pictures of God. Once finished, they were taped to the chalkboard and the nun said, “every year you will be able to draw a different picture of God and it will always be true.”
I couldn’t wait to get home to listen to the whole podcast and work more on the poem I started scribbling on an offering envelope during the postlude. It took longer than usual for this poem to come together. And I happily share it here with you now.
Take a read and/or a listen. And then I invite you to draw—with words or images or thoughts—a picture of god or goodness, someone, something, or somewhere sacred. Does it differ from what you would have drawn as a child? How so? How come?
Curiously, Rebecca
A Piece of Seafoam and a Sip of Pepsi
(a poem about what god is)
©Rebecca Wilson, April 28, 2026
god is the twilight breeze that wakes you through the window you forgot to close god is the announcer of sunrise color by color indigo sapphire to cerulean blue moments of magenta and crimson in the middle the pink belt of Venus god is the clouds changing shape overhead inviting you to play charades or twenty questions god is the horizon so far and yet so close unsure where the water ends and the sky begins the reason for binoculars on your christmas list god is the sailboat barely visible catching your full attention where is it headed who’s on board where have they been god is the perfectly polished petoskey stone dropped into a metal coffee can used as a chest for hunting treasure sea glass washing to shore seagulls seeking food the leftover pancakes you feed them from the palm of your wounded hand god is the grandmother ringing a bell reminding you it’s time to check in the grandfather bringing you a straw hat to cover your freckled face that so resembles his god is the hot summer sun the intense shiver down your spin as you first immerse yourself in the lake god is the waves strong enough to knock you over calm enough to rock you to rest an inner tube tied to a driftwood bench meant to keep you safe god is the sand in the folds of your skin the gaps between your toes your ears, your hair the hole you carve out to pillow your head as you day dream reciting song lyrics you’re not supposed to know god is the paper plate holding barbecue chicken, corn on the cob tomato, watermelon the grace you say before you begin god is the good and the great god is the radio on the fireplace mantle the Tiger game on WJR god is the voice of Ernie Harwell Kirk Gibson’s bat god is the magic hour watching from a green hammock in the front row a disappearing palette of mango saffron and amber the moon slowly returning from a long day of hide and seek god is the stars beginning to appear in familiar patterns, recognizable shapes the burnt-out ones you never see at home the falling ones and shooting ones blinking, twinkling ones god is the stillness, quiet no one in the hallway fighting having your own room the bed to yourself clean fresh sheets drying on the clothes line hanging all afternoon by the strength of a single pin god is a piece of seafoam you sneak from the tray wash down with a sip of flat Pepsi right after you brushed your teeth
If you liked this poem, you’ll love the poems of Unraveling and Not My Grandmother’s Hymnal. For a limited time and a special price you can order both of these books as part of one beautiful bundle. Click the box below to go directly to the 10CAMELS store.
You touched my soul. This morning is my group meeting at a Penara restaurant. We are a diverse group of individuals with different religious backgrounds. Some claim to be atheist. All good giving souls. All Gods children. I will share your poem with them.
Keep up the good work. Your forever friend, Ed
god is this poem
detailing deftly divinity
everywhere