Fragrant peony intermittently perfume my senses,
From those blooms set in a vase by my grandmother’s portrait,
The scent pulls me,
mind and body back to the reality
That presently exists:
My grandparents,
all 4,
have passed on,
To the other side;
And yet the viel between us
is so very thin,
In moments when I smell the peonies again,
Profound fragrance
Of flowers planted
by my mother’s mother,
Her spirit leads the others to,
and me to them,
To feel them
Still,
In the space between.