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Athena, also known as Minerva in Roman mythology, is the goddess of Military Strategy, Wisdom, and Crafts. Athena was born from Zeus and Metis, although that is a story in and of itself. Quite imprudently, Zeus sired a child with Metis, only realizing later that if that child was a son, he would be more powerful than him. In an attempt to stop that, Zeus ate the pregnant Metis, the Goddess of Prudence. Somehow, Metis survived being eaten and went into Zeus' head, giving birth to Athena while having enough time for her to grow while she made her a complete set of armor and weapons(yes, apparently there's a smithy up in Zeus' noggin). As Athena grew, Zeus experienced severe headaches until he had Hephaestus, God of Smithing, open up his head, whereby Athena popped out, fully dressed, ready for war, and presumably covered in brain juices. Other stories say that her father was Pallas(who later tried to rape her and got killed as a result), others say that she was the daughter of Poseidon, but that she begged to be adopted by Zeus. Most stories say that Athena doesn't have a real mother.
Invocation to Athena:
Athena, strong and beautiful - Ancient Warrior,
come enwrapped in your winged power.
Call upon your heartsong to open the skies.
Spread rainbow light across sea cliffs.
Cloaked in power, raise the sun,
piercing the gray mist at dawn.
Athena, oh great one! who defies time and challenges the form.
Free the words in our story and hold the ideal as our voice.
With the courage of a sacred warrior,
offer our hearts as a painted vessel to the heavens.
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Goddess of the cross-roads,
Goddess of Manic-Depression,
Dweller in the deep places of the earth and mind,
Traveller in the land between worlds!
Torch-bearer! Protectress of the very old and the very young;
Protectress of those used and abused;
Healer of those who are torn apart;
She will be there for us when we call on her and at the end.
Grandmother to lost children and to the downtrodden.
Nurse to the suckling infant,
Comfort to the lone man or woman in the darkest night.
She who seeks vengeance for her children who are wronged!
Wanderer and prowler!
Sorceress who lives at the edge of the mind.
Drawer-up of the secret compost from the unused internal well.
She who has no relatives on the earth save for her children.
Without Mother or Sister.
Lady on the brink, both bi-polar and uni-polar!
They call her mad, and it is she who terrifies the disbeliever and the unworthy!
Bringer of nightmares!
But she it is who sooths the sleepless and disheveled spirit.
Mother of night!
Dark Power of the moon!
Keeper of the shadow!
Walker of the endless highways!
She unites those who follow her as her children; the Hekite.
Bearer of the sacred poppy.
Shape-shifter, Transformer.
Keeper of the hounds of Hel and the three-headed dog Cerebus!
She walks abroad in the hour of the wolf and under the Dark Moon!
Hear my call O Lady and cover us with your starry cloak.
Let the unborn moon seed in my heart this night.
And let her growing light shine upon our intention;
That she be at our full deliverance,
So Mote it be!
by Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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Long have we wandered and been apart from her shores.
Long have we flown on unseeing wings.
The eagle soars high on boundless feeling.
Long have we felt groundless without root, or presence.
Long have we been valiant in the name of love.
Long have we allowed nameless fears to limit our possibilities.
The forest continues it's endless cycle of the ages.
Long have we felt alone in expectant solitude.
Long have we danced our own lives to the dream of wisdom
to the unbearable void of ourselves
The tide washes evenly on deserted shores.
Forever we are one.
Forever we ignite our being in the elemental fire of our spirit.
The golden age dweller.
The playful sprite.
The hooded wanderer.
The tortured seeker.
The power of being is ours to hold.
The beauty of now is here for the taking.
Forever and tonight,
we bathe in the majesty of wonder.
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