"Grandma,"
Jack says, as he curls up
On her lap for a cuddle.
"Whenever I tell a story,
It seems to come true."

Grandma raises an eyebrow.
"How can it be? The world
Doesn't work that way,
Not in our world, anyway.
We have to imagine it."

Grandma and Jack sit
On the porch, looking up
Into the dark starry sky,
Into the many worlds
Yet imagined and created.

They close their eyes
And hold hands,
Conjuring in their minds
Better worlds
People can live in.

As he drifts to sleep,
Jack recites a story:
"Once upon a time,
There lived a boy Jack
And his entire family:

Dad, Mom, Grandma,
Grandpa, and his sister Jade.
It didn't matter what world
They were in, as long
As they were together..."