Ozark Ballad to the Persimmon Tree

 As a rule, I begin and end each year living in the Ozarks with deep contempt towards the grass, the dogwoods, the mold, the oak trees and cypress that inflict me and my children with all the ailments that come with seasonal allergies - the chronic ear infections, the hay fever and pink eye. Even their beautiful display of brilliant colors in the fall fails to diminish my disdain for the daily and yearly necessity of swallowing anti-histamine pills for much desired relief or my summer long sentence to air-conditioned only rooms. More than that, I still mourn for the cottonwoods, quivering aspens and lodge pole pines that were sprinkled across the jagged valleys of my Wyoming home, where my lungs were always full and healthy with that fresh, mountain air.

However, several weeks ago as I was walking along a dirt farm road, I noticed a row of trees unfamiliar to my critical eye. These trees were tall with thick foliage that formed an oval shape above and around the sturdy trunks and limbs, which were covered with unusual, gray squares of bark. Through the dark green leaves, I could see glimpses of their round, heavy fruit. They were called Persimmon trees I soon discovered. Strangely, long after I had returned home from my visit to the orchard, thoughts about these wild fruit-bearing trees continued to preoccupy my mind.

 [Detail: Persimmon Tree, Edo period (1615–1868), late autumn 1816 

 Sakai Hoitsu (Japanese, 1761–1828)  

       Two-panel screen; ink and color on paper       

 The Metropolitan Museum of Art.]        

  http://stylecourt.blogspot.com/2012/05/rinpa-style.htm

Before my small discovery, persimmon trees have been admired throughout many cultures. In fact, wild Persimmon trees can be found in North America but their popularity for consumption and medicinal purposes even extends into ancient Japan and Middle East (Vegetarian in Paradise, 2012). Likewise, persimmon fruit has inspired the creation of gorgeous masterpieces hanging in city museums and beautiful poems, such as "Persimmons" by Li-Young Lee (1986)  and "The Persimmons" by Gary Snyder (1986).

 In Ozark country, the persimmon fruit not only serves as a tasty ingredient in wines, pudding, and jams, its seeds also work as a means of forecasting severe winter seasons. Not surprisingly then, the Persimmon tree's   botanical name comes from the Greek word diospyrous, which means "Food of the Gods" (Vegetarian in Paradise, 2012).

For me, the Persimmon tree reflects an accurate picture of human development. Picked too soon, the fruit tastes too bitter to enjoy; yet, when they are ripe and ready, the fruit offers delicious flavors as rich and unique as the bright colors of their skin. In the same way, I am like a Persimmon tree - growing wild and full of possibilities and waiting for the right time for those around me to truly experience my soul and my heart despite my resilient, sometimes impenetrable exterior.... and like the persimmon trees I am planted and rooted in the rocky soil of the Ozark hillsides. Yet, will this ever place ever be my home?

I am thankful for the Persimmon tree; for now my abhorrence to all things deciduous is slowly subsiding as the beauty of these thick forests is gradually unfolding before me. Indeed, I am writing ballads about Ozark trees and that can be considered a small miracle.

An Ozark Ballad to The Persimmon Tree

Sissy tosses and turns in her bed

Feeling the unborn child

Sway in her swollen belly

Tonight the moon is round and full

And it floods her room and her head

With romantic notions and visions of childhood

When she played in the family garden 

With the fragrance of honeysuckle in the air

There she stayed - Dancing to the cricket song,

Catching fireflies, gathering persimmons;

Ripe and the color of a sunset orange

Her mother's favorite fruit

Now, bathing in the silver moonlight

Sissy returns to the persimmon trees

Their branches bowing with the heavy fruit

Ready to fall to the dewy grass -

This fruit with sweet flesh to devour

For pleasure or sometimes to heal

With secrets and mysteries concealed

Just below the persimmon's skin

Sissy sways her round body to the cricket song

As she gathers the fruit surrounding her

For tomorrow she will make jams, pudding,

butter and syrups to feed her children -

Then, she will cut the seeds to tell the future

Persimmon, the bittersweet child of a wild tree

by Lindsey M. Hamilton-Lawson (2012)

References 


Persimmon, "Food of the Gods". (2012). Vegetarians in Paradise, Retrieved on July 4, 2012, from http://www.vegparadise.com/highestperch210.html