Childhood Imagination

When we were children, everything was spelled out for us. We knew the rules and we followed them without question. We went through each day the same, testing out mudpie recipes, catching grasshoppers, picking flowers that will wilt in a second to give to our mothers, and then being tucked in. It was pretty much ignorance and bliss.
But now I'm older and I have a lot of questions. And my days aren't filled with catching grasshoppers or feasting on mudpies anymore. I'm in that stage where I'm stuck between a caterpillar and a butterfly. I've made my cacoon but I haven't immerged yet as a radiant new creature. I'm still a little of the old me, but I'm also a little of the new me. I'm split between and time is running out for me to be neutril. Things have changed and I need to figure things out. I still, thankfully, have my childhood imagination, I haven't lost that, yet, to the sensible way adult's think. I'm still me. But, I'm not.
Just this Spring people could pass me up as an eleven year old sunshinee girl, but now postladies are asking me if I'm the eldest over my fourteen year old sister (yeah, she wasn't happy about that).
I have a lot of questions without answers, I have a lot of ideas and dreams that I can't fulfill because I'm too young. I'm stuck in the middle and I don't know how to get out.
When am I going to fly as a butterfly?