Songs by
Jacob Greenleaf

Make It Real

Stranded on the edge by the water's high mark marooned

Balancing the rod of judgment on the end of a spoon

Giving up as the truth's defender, arms wide open to signal surrender

To the coming monsoon

And honoring the dead in the little time left before noon

Dusting off the granite tablets left behind by the gods

I'm slipping past the checkpoint desk while the security nods

Muttering to myself in the dream, feed this spirit sea salt and steam,

And cardamom pods

I never would have taken this gamble if I'd known the odds


Seize that which seems to be

Please if you make it real

Don't forget me

I collect the good luck charms gathering dust in my cell

Every superstition that I've ever let under my shell

Hammer them into powder fine, into gel-caps taken with wine,

And toast to farewell

Nodding to the fortress unreason where the spirits all dwell


Walking on the sea through the twilight home to return

I'm savoring the final moments as the earth starts to churn

Liberated from my expectation, immolated by your hand's sensation,

Creation I yearn

Our fingertips touch and my tinderbox heart starts to burn