The rain

The pitter pat
of the raindrops on the glass
my world separated from outside.
The rain very rhythmical
in its own unique way,
the last step of a long
cycle, journey across the world.
Falling to the ground
where it'll lose its molecular integrity,
so gracefully it falls.
Society tells us
that it's not beautiful, or nice,
and that it should be an annoyance to us,
but I just can't help
see the spider web patterns
it makes on my window,
and see a beauty to it,
see a purpose.