Peonies of her grandmother, they thrived in the garden still, baring in beauty the full of their bloom in season and their time. To blossom-sign, she smiled in belief her grandmother lived same in fecund and fertile of her feminine line. She held to the bloom, beauty of summer’s full—in remembrance of past, in hope for future, alive in paradigm that is living presence and bond-tie between the two.
Peonies bloomed, and she did too—beautiful in season and time: flowering in hope and living knowledge that both would last for generation more, and ever as long, as one cared and tended, in love, to cultivation of life in bloom.