Persimmon: The Divine Fruit
- Linda Crider
- 7 hours ago
- 3 min read
Years ago, we had friends who lived in the bay area of northern California. The lady of the house was Japanese, and she made it a regular practice of drying Persimmons. One year she sent us a huge bag of them. To me, fresh Persimmons had an unfamiliar taste and strange texture, but for some reason I couldn't stop eating these dried snacks. I wonder why...
Recently, I met another Californian who brought the Persimmon Tree once again to my attention, and I remembered this oddly sweet but spicy taste experience, courtesy of our Japanese friend. The Persimmon (also called "kaki") is a common delicacy and considered a popular autumn gift in Japan, China and Korea. In fact, it's considered Japan's national fruit! Aside from producing autumn treats, the tree and fruit have multiple purposes including some use in paper making, furniture construction, creating a wood stain or sealant and a variety of artifacts. Medicinally, parts are brewed as a digestive supporting herbal tea.
The bright, orange fruit is all the more striking as it hangs on dark branches after most of the leaves have fallen from cooler autumn temperatures. One informative and entertaining website describes them as The Fruit of Japanese Fairy tales. If you enjoy whimsical stories, there's a cute one here involving a crab, a monkey and a Persimmon tree followed by a layered Persimmon cake recipe for anyone into baking.
The botanical name of this tree, Diospyros comes from from the Greek words dios (divine) and pyros (grain or food), so the Persimmon is considered the “divine fruit."
When one is cut horizontally, an eight-pointed star is revealed which is said to symbolize cosmic order.
This idea was among those that prompted me to look deeper into this tree and the unique, rather exotic fruit it offers. Such research led to discussions about how Persimmons fit into Asian culture and eventually to the spiritual significance Buddhism might apply to them. Much attention is given to a painting titled Six Persimmons by Muqi or Mu Ch'i, a 13th Century Chinese Chan Buddhist Monk. This subdued work was painted at the end of the Song dynasty with calligraphy-like strokes of black/blue ink and simple lines. It has been housed in a Zen temple in Kyoto, Japan but was brought to the San Francisco CA Asian Art Museum for a brief showing as part of The Heart of Zen exhibit in 2023.
As with all famous art, historians like to speculate on the meanings and intentions of the artist. When you consider that the six fruits appear to be floating without any background or support, it makes the most sense to me that this piece illustrates what one critic refers to as the groundless condition of all things–what Zen Buddhists like to call groundlessness.
Based on this spiritual concept, I would say that the power behind Six Persimmons is in it's simplicity rather than the use of Persimmons as a subject. But all the same, it does suggest them as the inspirational scenery of a peaceful Asian temple garden adorned with Persimmon trees.
According to the website Tree Spirit Wisdom, this tree is connected to the divination we receive via dreams and other mystical sources. It reminds us how important it is to make wise choices based on paying attention to divine guidance along with an approach that includes patience and personal action:
When persimmon appears in our life we are being asked to make necessary choices to achieve our goals. This is a time of action in order to make our dreams a reality.
I don't live in an area where this particular botanical reminder grows abundantly, but it can show up in other less, concrete ways like art and poetry.
The East Asian Goddess of compassion, Quan Yin is pictured here surrounded by the fruit of a Persimmon tree.
As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I'm a huge fan of Haiku poetry. 19th century poet Masaoka Shiki highlights this fruit in one of Japan’s most famous Haiku:
Biting into a persimmon
The great bell tolls
– Horyuji Temple
(Note: the ancient temple of Horyuji is said to be the oldest surviving wooden building in the world)
Another is one I'd like to end with was created by my favorite Haiku master poet, Matsuo Bashō who sums up the Persimmon's enduring significance with elegant simplicity:
This old village –
not a single house
without persimmon trees
As always, thanks for letting me share my thoughts and journey with you. I welcome your input, so if you want to submit a comment, scroll down to the bottom of this post. If you are interested in booking a personal session, you can do this here:
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For now, here's wishing you wellness, wisdom and bloomin' vibes!
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