Popcorn & Whiskey by Edmund Buckley
The popcorn seeds rattle burst and blossom the taste of vinegar still strong on my tongue, I reach out the cuff of my arm through a fortress of troubling emotions for a glass of single malt.   I wonder of our Master's divine intentions, why we must die to gain omniscience for just a second, a mere blink of an eye, to see His beautiful logic   and comfort those whom I love from the painful road ahead.