Carefree drops

The rain pitter-patters against the roof,
Dripping down the sides.
The pipes treat the steady streams
Like a water slide,
Twisting and turning their way down.
The constant drops thrum in my ears,
Echoing like a shout in a cave.
My mind tries to find a pattern in the beat,
But it comes too quickly, impossible to discover.
It hits the water, creating ripples and splashes
That form intricate sculptures mid-air,
Before falling back down into the cool water.
The rain has a destination, but not a unique one.
Its goal is to just make it to the ground.
I wish I could be that carefree,
To not truly care where I was going,
And to be happy wherever I landed.