Willow Rose grew up good, she grew up slow, but frequently misunderstood. She looked in appearance as any other child of the village of Koya, who have parents who are, too, farmers of the land, but she was always too curious. She frequently got into trouble, whether in her school lessons when she’d frequently daydream of a place beyond the forest land she resides in, beyond the great fall of the waterfall.
She was as steady as a Zen master, but free as a geisha appears performing on stage. Willow Rose always has had multiple personalities, many sides of her, that few could understand. Her mother saw her as a wild child who needs to be tamed, but her father always hoped that she’d remain the same, how she is, always. Innocent, pure, and sweet is how her father knew her to be.
“You are our Willow Rose, and like the Willow it is misunderstood because of its solitude nature, and even the rose with its beauty has its thorns. You are a yin and yang, as we all are. Never change who you are, and always keep exploring,” her father would tell her when she’d come to him in discouragement, because many of the other kids would not play with her.
Her father was a merchant in his younger days, so he knows what it is to have a heart of an explorer, and to find rare goods one has to have a keen eye for detail and a mind that looks beyond what appears to be so.
So, Willow Rose grew and developed, always with her free spirit despite the disguise of being “tamed” in her late teen years. She learned in time to act good and do good in school, and in the presence of her mother. But when she was done with her chores and duties she’d frequently roam the rolling hills of the country side, where the forest meets the lake, and sit under the willow that which she was named after. She’d speak to the willow and tell it all of what’s on her mind. Her hopes, dreams, concerns – she knew this willow was listening even if it did not speak to her. Even though the willow never spoke, it always gave a gentle breeze of comfort in the hot summer time.
One day, Willow Rose spoke to the willow of love. “Oh, wise willow, I would love a love so true, that it’d turn the grey skies a perfect blue. And when the hard times come, I would surpass and conquer all, with my love at my side.”
With those sweet words spoken, a cool breeze hit Willow Rose’s face. A whisper was then heard.
Fair Willow Rose, who has skin as white as snow, eyes dark as ebony, hair the color of midnight, your love will show up in due time. Just keep sitting here, beneath my weeping branches, and all will be granted that you request. Just believe in your name, and me, and all that you wish to be true will be.
Willow Rose smiles a content smile as she hears the words of the elder whisper, not even bothered one bit that she heard the willow’s voice. She was glad for it, for she knew one day, her love will come and meet her under the willow tree.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sun shines through the willow branches
And dances Upon two lovers to be
Beneath the willow tree…[click hyperlink to read my poem ‘Willow Tree’]
Willow Rose, a character I had in a game called Renaissance Kingdoms. The game has three ‘kingdoms’ connected to the renaissance era: Europe, Japan, and Aztec. This character is Japanese, from Shogun Kingdoms. I connected the main role plays I had there, gathered them into a document, and a collection of tales were created. This is, Chapter one, of Willow Rose, an imaginative piece of me, who kept me sane in years of confusion (February 2007 to August 2016). I Have edit the post only a little, you may take note as I post the chapters, the improvement of my writing style. Stay tuned for more throughout the year, one chapter per month. Enjoy. Further tales will include my other characters, Arial de Grey and High Priestess.