Ah... it seems like you've hit a wall of existential angst here, the whole "why am I here if all I'm going to do is live and die?" Determination of the snow, the fact that it falls and lies there just that it may melt, is all well and good---
But we also know what happens when snow melts. It does not so simply disappear, but its spirit ascends and collects in the heavens, and these same angels descend forever in new and unique forms.
Such is the poetic genius of creation, the eternal process of becoming and terminating, the cycle of changing from one thing each to the other, the poetry of the universe.
Nice one, Zu.