The King of Oaks and the Oak of Kings

They recently made the sad announcement that the "Major Oak," the famous tree that has stood silent witness to a thousand years of Sherwood Forest history, has died. 

I've referred before to memories I have of a past life in Sherwood, and because of that I've had intentions for years to travel to Nottingham and do a vision quest of sorts in that storied forest. So, to find out I missed my window of opportunity to meet this great being in person, alive, is quite a disappointment. 

A couple weeks or so before drawing this comic I found out my dear friend Rev Judith Laxer had been diagnosed with last stage cancer. Being a Pagan High Priestess who founded Gaia’s Temple in Seattle, she was very connected to Mother Gaia and all her natural cycles and rhythms, and the timing of this, so close to Summer Solstice, spurred on a story to help make sense of it all...

For Judith

Solstice tales have long been told

Of Oak and Holly Kings of old

Who in each turn would take the throne

And claim that time to be his own

And so it is still to this year

With Midsummer a memory near

The roy'l exchange already made

When Oaken life begins to fade

Now the part comes into play

That tales tell not and bards don't say

For as the Oak King's light does pale

So too his sight begins to fail

Then, as ever, once again

Supported by the Feminine

The masculine, bold, mighty king

Softens and, surrendering 

Strength, bravado, prowess vast,

To melt into Her arms at last

The one who catches all that fall

Gaia: Mother of us all

 Yet, eyesight dimmed, he must be led

Unto his star-suspended bed

To sleep, to die, or so it seems

Retiring to the Land of Dreams

So each year as Winter brews

The Goddess lovingly doth choose 

A daughter who has earned the right

To shepherd gods into the night

And so this year of which I speak

The Oak King having reached his peak

Had none to guide him in his plight

To rest deep in the winter's night

But Gaia's mind and heart were clear

She whispered in her chosen's ear

"Come home my child, your service done

Unto this world of shining sun.

"'Tis one who needs your hand to guide 

His path across the Otherside

By light of moon, with eyes of Owl

You've danced and shone, you've laughed and howled

My bright presence in life you've been 

'Tis time to join me once again"

And so it was, is, and shall be

An Owl Moon Goddess for to see

The clear path on into the dark

Where Oak King may rebirth his spark 

Thus the priestess, Goddess born

When Mundane form has freshly shorn

Rises to the velvet skies

Her light added to ancestral eyes

To watch o'er us, to guide and steer

Her loving light so far yet near

Though gone our hearts her love shall fill

Within and without, she remains with us still.

Blessed Be

While I was getting ready to post this comic, my friend passed away. Then as I'm looking at this poem I wrote about the Oak King coinciding with Judith's diagnosis and death, and this comic I drew about the recent death of the Major Oak, arguably the most famous oak tree in the world - Or in other words, the King of Oaks - during this same time period, the synchronistic timing of these seemingly unrelated events was unmistakable, and caused me to question whether my story truly was fiction or not. 

Chalk one up for the power of myth! 

Thank you Judith for the decades of love, laughter, and light. You are forever part of my heart. ♥️