Mary van Balen

"This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready/to break my heart/ as the sun rises,/ as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers/ and they open--- / pools of lace,/white and pink..."

from "Peonies" by Mary Oliver




Spring has come early this year. Dogwoods that bloom on Mothers' Day are already holding crowns of pink and white blossoms. Magnolia flowers have come and gone weeks ago along with crocuses, snowdrops, and grape hyacinths. The May flowers are here now, and the earth, soft and fragrant, calls out to be opened and trusted with seedlings and plants.

Still, I am cautious. I have seen 13" of snow in April. Yet, this spring feels like it is here to stay. I could not resist and I planted some peonies from my parent's home. I have the perfect place: A long strip of ground running along the south side of my brick flat. I pulled fistfuls of weeds to make room. The earth gave them up easily, having softened in rains and warm days. Using a borrowed shovel, I turned up a patch of ground large enough to hold the plants, just a few inches high.

Now I wait. I don't know if they will bloom this year, having been moved from their fifty-year old place between our family home and the neighbors to the north. Maybe they will spend a year keeping memories of blossoms bowing down from sheer weight of their delicate pink lace and deep red silk. Maybe they, too, need time to grieve the passing of an era. No matter. I will wait with them, finding memory and promise in the green and red stems, the deeply notched leaves.

One day, I will gather their blooms, as when I was a child looking for something beautiful to place at our homemade May altar. Mary, I was sure, would savor the glorious explosion of petals and fragrance as I did Read More 

I have fallen into some bad habits: Eating too much junk food; staying up late; skipping exercise; watching tv; missing prayer time and blog posts. I am not sure what precipitated my "fall." Splurging on some Easter treats and then not being able to stop? Grocery shopping when I was hungry and buying comfort foods I should have passed by? Weeks of almost incessant rain; Odd work hours?

Whatever the causes, I have paid for the slips with inability to fall asleep, restless nights, and an couple of added pounds. Headaches and lethargy often follow my bouts of sweets eating and those have made an appearance as well.

A friend of mine who struggles with weight issues said when she slips off her regimen and eats too much of the things she shouldn't, she tells herself, "Today is a new day," and gets back on track.

Well, today is my new day.  Read More 

PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN
One sunny afternoon, a friend asked me if I had taken photos of the pear trees in her neighbor's backyard.

"Just yesterday they were all bloom. Today the tops are greening with leaves. The beauty of a tree covered with flowers is fleeting."

From the second floor room where I write, I see dogwoods beginning to bloom. They look almost golden, as do the flowers and tassels that dangle from the sugar maple tree. I am reminded of Robert Frost's poem, "Nothing Gold Can Stay:"

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

My friend was correct: Springs blossoms drop soon after they flock trees in white and pink. Frost's poem begins with ephemeral golden moments of April and moves to ponder the transience of much earthly beauty. Yet, as Frost's poem suggests, when one beauty or good is gone, another takes its place: Flowers are lovely, but leaves provide food for the plant; dawn is rosy, but we live in the light of day; Eden was lost, but as we just celebrated at Easter, the gift of Divine Love and life is given to all. Nothing gold can stay, but would we want it to? One thing must give way to another as we grow. We must die to live again. Read More