Shed

As I walk on along my path, it leads me under the waterfall of time.
Not having any option but to move forward, I feel the drops disentangle my appearance.
Out on the other side I emerge, my face new, my resemblance changed.
For a while I wonder at my appearance.

Is this me? Have I really grown?

Looking back through the waters of memory, I find my younger me staring back at me.
And the truth is hard and painful, as it always is:
The skin is shed, the imago changes.
I take on new places, I put on new masks.
And I hope, as hard as it can ever be hoped, that I will someday grow up, beyond the old - but young - skin I left behind.

I'm just scared of being too small inside.