Beasts wide-eyed roaming within a jaded haven
Black feathers raining from a wintry heaven
Caws so shrill and gnaws that kill
The nocturne to Athena’s Dream
A smile in the darkness
The prelude to Athena’s Dream
Sauna at dawn, amidst a graveyard’s mist
So high her arrow, falling with pointed thrist
Whetstone sparks and brimstone bricks
Sailing a lily upon the glassy Styx
Is anathema the dream of Athena?
A gladiator arena the dream of Athena?
We’re born from the warborn
Scartorn from the starborn
Glass-eyed beasts, bound to the Dream
Falling blackbirds, the sound of the Dream
And here unto me descendeth Athena
Descending from clouds of feathers
Descending from the Olympian mount
Down to Earth and kneeling to Gaia
Here, unto me, resteth Athena
Resting within a fatherly shroud
Resting within her father’s sheath
An xiphos sharpened dull, by His whetstone boulder
My instincts so dull, sharpened by her spear-sharp cunning
Her grounded spear, like a serpent calcified
Her clipped wings, an owl undignified
Her brittle shield, a man crucified
And there, unto me she says…
“My son,
My shining sun,
My Helios…
The nights before summoned legions of screams
Passing centuries of dread
Raising cemeteries for the dead
Casting skies of sorrow, onto the jaded morrow
But the moon,
My final moon,
My dawning halo…
‘Twas a light, leading me along a starry way
Leading me, a refugee of the galactic fray
And my eyes
My heavy eyes
Two crystal spheres
They passed me this vision
Before I pass…
In the clouds over the Styx
In the sky above Tartarus
In the sun showering Olympus
An angel, she appeared
An angel with short hair of a raven’s wing
An angel, heart warmer than a rabbit’s spring
This angel, a guardian
Your angel, your guardian
A seraph to watch over you
When my spirit falls through
And so my son,
My shining sun,
My Helios…
Find the angel with a raven’s crown
The angel with a rabbit’s gown
Find that angel, blessed is she with the name-
The angel of the name-
With the name […..]
…Remember that name […..]
My shining sun…”
That dream
A mother’s dream
For all my waking moments
All her son’s waking moments
Was the dream but a dream
Or was the dream my fate?
To find my destined mate?
Is the path to the Guardian set in stone
Or must I pave the way, make the angel my own?
And so this will, my mother’s dream, be my fate
And so I will, this bleary vision, elucidate…
Rabbits wide-eyed roaming in an olivine haven
Raven feathers raining from a whispering heaven
Birdsongs and morning calls
The nocturne to Athena’s Dream
A sleeping smile in the night
The prelude to Athena’s Dream
Corey Toomey 