Leaf Quotes

“In every change, in every falling leaf there is some pain, some beauty. And that's the way new leaves grow.”
― Amit Ray

“There is another alphabet, whispering from every leaf, singing from every river, shimmering from every sky.”
― Dejan Stojanovic

“A withered maple leaf has left its branch and is falling to the ground; its movements resemble those of a butterfly in flight. Isn't it strange? The saddest and deadest of things is yet so like the gayest and most vital of creatures?”
― Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons

“I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow.”
― Wendy Delsol, Stork

“Only with a leaf
can I talk of the forest,”
― Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple: Selected Poetry

“Feelings are real. They often become one’s reality. But they are not always based on truth.”
― Jesikah Sundin, Elements

“They tell you to turn into a new leaf and then complain about your faded colour.”
― Nitya Prakash

“Autumn is the season when cathedrals of memories are built. They become palaces of light, amid the falling leaves.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“As you take the river, the flow, the leaves, and the play of light into your soul, you become more of yourself. You become you.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The Leaf of a Tree as Bookmark for a Book...”
― Sino Melo

“The music is in the trembling of a leaf, the murmuring of a trunk of how it holds itself into the roots, yet reaches the sky to utter its dreams.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The music is in the trembling of a leaf, the murmur of a trunk of how it holds itself into the roots, yet reaches the sky to utter its dreams.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The seeds that grief had planted grew slowly as if God had nurtured them. From the deep, fresh leaves appeared, and buds broke, working wonders. Slowly, they uncurled, flooding the earth with scent and filling our cups with ecstasy.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“With a leaf, a flower, and a river in your soul, you will eternally remain fresh.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Loving earth, more of love flows out of me,
for in the leaves is music, in the flowers, a poem,
In the trees is a story of centuries of storms,
endured and stayed as secrets of ages.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Leaves sing the song of seasons, the song of change.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Chapter by chapter, as you write your story, it becomes a reclamation of the self. The roots grow further into the deep, as the words plant new trees. Fresh flowers grow in your soul.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“A soft, tender leaf fell off the branch of a tree.
I picked it up—it looked at me, as if to whisper;
“How did I grow? How did I dance with wind and breeze,
Play with birds, and laugh with fellow leaves?”

How much had it endured—rain, storms, blazing sun,
Noisy roads and shivery winter nights?
What were its favourite tastes, its dearest friends,
The family that cradled it?
None could help it to stay a little longer.

At last, it was time to say goodbye.
I held it with all the care my hands could offer.
It smiled, resting in my palm—
Not an end, but a journey to a new universe,
Eager to taste fresh wonders.

Yet I could not let it go.
I restored it, a tiny, radiant fragment of nature,
A messenger of joy and love.
I gazed once more, and it glimmered quietly,
A universe held in a single leaf.”
― Meghna Sodha

“Let the earth speak to you, let the earth fill you in with its whispers.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Autumn is a love affair with the earth, where every leaf is a love letter.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Let me ask you what pulls you into life when you gulp inside the hardest of ache, let me ask you how you continue living, knowing every footstep makes the hardest slog, for beneath the leaves are the memories you pushed aside, let me ask you how you meet your eyes when all that you buried inside is burning you alive. Could it be a thirst despite the loss? Could it be the deep longing despite the despair?”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Let me ask you what pulls you into life when you gulp inside the hardest of ache, let me ask you how you continue living, knowing every footstep makes the hardest slog, for beneath the leaves are the memories you pushed aside, let me ask you how you meet your eyes when all that you buried inside is burning you alive. Could it be a thirst to live despite the loss? Could it be the deep longing despite the despair?”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Let me ask you what pulls you into life when you gulp inside the hardest of ache, let me ask you how you continue living, knowing every footstep makes the hardest slog, for beneath the leaves are the memories you pushed aside, let me ask you how you meet your eyes when all that you buried inside is burning you alive. Could it be a thirst to live despite the loss? Could it be a longing despite the despair?”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“The mellow melancholy makes the music of autumn.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Autumn! The season's parting song! The guitar plays one last time.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Autumn gold is moments and memories blazing into fire.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“When the world slows down in its song of melancholy, I know, it's October, gently coming.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Autumn wears the gown of gold. The sadness becomes the burning flames, the longing to live, one last time. Behind the wheels of life, it is God, the painter, who awakens colors in farewell moments, as if the lamp of light is burning before it dies.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Filled with Autumn
The earth, drowned in colors,
I am the river-born soul of rippling water,
when the sky breaks down in torrents,
I am the color-bathed soul of feasty meadows.
With baskets of gold in autumn fields.

The spark, the fire, the seed of life,
Let the earthly desires burn and burn.
The sun rises, and the sky is painted with gold.

The sun drowns, and the forest wears
a face of red and russet
The drowning sun brings dusky dreams.
On the fields, I walk to capture autumn's fragrance.
October has brought colorful dreams.
The fall footsteps have enlivened the earth,
The blank pages of my book fill up
with poems of light,
For colors break through the cloudy skies.

Summer left, and I drowned in silence
at its hushed goodbye.
But in the forest, I heard the footsteps of autumn,
Suddenly, verses float, for the quiet evenings
now feast in colors,
The cinnamon smell fills the home,
and the scent of nutmeg wafts in the air.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Winter comes, and the earth is stripped of beauty. The leaves have departed. Suddenly, the grounds are blanketed with snow, and the sounds are muffled. Life seems so hushed, but beneath everything, the soil may be preparing for the explosion of spring.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee