Moving Faster Than Nature

Here's a less sarcastic, less bitter poem I wrote...  I think I like this one.

MOVING FASTER THAN NATURE

A single drop falls onto my head.

Perhaps I can walk
faster than the rain will come.

Another drop hits,
like a precise mark.

Suddenly, a cold wind
rips at my face.
The dark of night smells fantastic:

Flowers, and the onset of rain.

It's a bit quiet.
Windchimes, and sprinklers.

I get a calm, forboding feeling:
Something is about to happen.

Keep walking. Just keep walking.

Dark spots begin to fill the ground,
just as I make it up the stairs
and through my door.

The night breaks open.