The North Country calls to the few who search for each other
In their flesh they feel the meat of life
Flavorful and juicy with humanity, emotion, and discontentment.
In their nerves they smell the scent of existence and experience.
But in their bones is a thing or two more
that houses their curious souls and
nourishes them before taking on their next spiritual expedition.
Skeletons rattle with the purest rhythms of an entity.
They drum a beat more constant than heart
that guides the lost onward
to the party waiting for them in the marrow
where they will find a river of unlimited beer and friendship
that was truly always coursing through their veins.
I cannot wait to be drunk off of these beautiful rivers
and so full and so satisfied.