Quotes About Leaves

Dawn Landscape The last watch has sounded in the Amble-Awe. Radiant color spreads above Solar-Terrace Mountain, then cold sun clears high peaks. Mist and cloud linger across layered ridges, And earth split-open hides river sails deep. Leaves clatter at heaven's clarity. I listen, And face deer at my bramble gate-so close Here, we touch our own kind in each other. Tu Fu

Three in Translation]" for WCW I wish I understood the beauty in leaves falling. To whom are we beautiful as we go? I lie in the field still, absorbing the stars and silently throwing off their presence. Silently I breathe and die by turns. He was ripe and fell to the ground from a bough out where the wind is free of the branches

In autumn, treat fallen leaves with respect.

Joys come from simple and natural things: mists over meadows, sunlight on leaves, the path of the moon over water.

Into the promise of happiness, synchronizing the rhythm of our lives to the turning of the leaves and the rise and fall of the tides.

When you have a solid upbringing and a strong sense of place, that sustains you. My sense of home never leaves me.

Death is not scary enough and not so sweet life of the human foot leaves gentility.

Thank you leaf blowers, for making me look like the world's lamest Ghostbuster. I ain't afraid of no leaves.

...in all the woods and forests, God did not create a single leaf the same as any other... People go against nature because they lack the courage to be different.

Autumn" Again the wind flakes gold-leaf from the trees and the painting darkens— as if a thousand penitents kissed an icon till it thinned back to bare wood, without diminishment. The Paris Review Issue 109, Winter 1988

If the blue morning held in the glass of the window, if my fingers, my palms. If my thighs. If your hands, if my thighs. If the seeds, among all the lost gold oft the grass. If your hands on my thighs, if your tongue. If the leaves. If the singing fell upward. If grief. For a moment if singing and grief. If the blue of the body fell upward, out of our hands. If the morning held it like leaves.

Cap notices the first red and gold leaves of the fall eddying on the surface of the lake. Do they make a pattern? Perhaps. She could impose form: a ragged spiral; a cluster disrupted by ducks; a single reed caught between reeds. She could impose symbolic meaning. She believes this may be life's primary requirement: to impose a tolerable meaning on randomness.

I want to say something so embarrassing about September that even the leaves start blushing and turning red.

a wind has blown the rain away & the sky away & all the leaves away, & the trees stand. i think i, too, have known autumn too long.

Suddenly nothing in the world seemed to Guy more glamorous than homosexuality, as romantic as heady white gardenias nested in polished green leaves.

The flutter of the leaves brought on your trance. Hundreds of thousands of sycamore leaves all obeying the same wind, their wide green palms opening then tightening, letting in and keeping out the light, changing the prospect from outdoor to indoor, forever altering. It was the most lonesome hour just before dusk with all the colors going, all the streamers , the pinks and reds, and violets and indigos and blues, the lovely laneways of vanquishing light.

Misery won't touch you gentle. It always leaves its thumbprints on you; sometimes it leaves them for others to see, sometimes for nobody but you to know of.

Sometimes in the evening on Summer days, Even when there's not a breeze at all, it seems Like there's a light breeze blowing for a minute But the trees are unmoving In every leaf of their leaves And our feelings have had an illusion, An illusion of what would please them...

Dusk" The shadow covers the outer petals The wind makes off with the final gestures of leaves The foreign, now twice-silenced sea inside a summer pitied for its lights A longing from here A memory from there

Leaves. Hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of them, brown and yellow and red and orange, in bright piles on the concrete floor. Some were so high they almost covered the rosebushes.

I regret not being a grove, which arms itself with leaves. I find it hard to be with minutes, they have completely confused me. It really upsets me terribly that I can be seen in reality.

So, timely you came, and well you chose, You came when most needed, my winter rose. From the snow I pluck you, and fondly press Your leaves 'twixt the leaves of my leaflessness.

Do you remember the winter days When we piled up the leaves and made them blaze, While the blue smoke curled, in the frosty air, Up the great wan trunks that rose gaunt and bare, And we clapped our hands, and the rotten bough Came crackling down to our feet, as now?

Some people have dogs... I like leaves. I like plants, and I like flowers too. Ecstasy is big in my life.