In Asgard, Thor said, “It is time.”He hauled the three huge wooden vats into the courtyard.The  gods  of  Asgard  watched the  eagles screaming through the  skytoward them. It was a close thing. Suttung was fast, and close behind Odin,his beak almost touching Odin’s tail feathers as they reached Asgard.When Odin approached the hall, he began to spit: a fountain of mead spurted from his beak into the vats, one after another, like a father bird bringing food for his children.Ever since then, we know that those people who can make magic with their words, who can make poems and sagas and weave tales, have tastedthe mead of poetry. When we hear a fine poet, we say that they have tasted Odin’s gift.

The Mead of Poets