Fresh Powder

Down a snowy, slippery slope we slide again and again.

At first, the snow is a fresh powder, undisturbed by all.

As time goes on, and we climb the hill time after time,

We begin to makes grooves in the snow.

As the years pass by, the snow hardens.

Our grooves become deeper and deeper,

And we begin to slide down the same tracks,

Comfortable in our consistent descent.

But even routine cannot last forever,

And over time the weather at last changes.

For just a day fresh powder falls once more,

And all of our old grooves disappear.

But now lost are we without the guide of repetition,

And at last we are forced to face the true nature of the slope.

We are scared, terrified even, but we are also liberated;

For in the discomfort of change,

We find innovation, empathy, and wisdom.