Moguls

Atop a monstrous, mountainous hill,
I shiver,
as much from terror as from cold
Knowing that if I take the plunge,
I may be crippled for life,
but if I do not,
I will be crippled in a much worse way.

My ankles tremble on already unstable skis,
As I push myself over the first ledge.
Pale and cold as the snow beneath me,
I timidly carve around the many icy bumps.

Then I realize,
What fun is there in going slow?
I let loose, soar forward so fast,
So fast my inhibitions are left behind
In my icy wake of wind and snow.

Feeling like an eagle,
I grace jump after jump
I am catapulted higher and higher
To the moon, to the stars, to the heavens!
When this magical ride sadly ends,
I know
That the biggest moguls
Come from within