A Force of Nature?

Growing up by the sea, I've always found it inspiritional. So, on my recent visit back home in the West of Ireland, I spent as much time as possible walking by the shore. I'm not quite sure why, perhaps its the force of nature, but for me its the closest thing to a spirtitual sensation I've ever experienced.
However, as I sat one day amongst wind swept, sandy dunes, I noticed a very large crow staring in my direction and a strange feeling came over me, actually within me. I began writing without hesitation. The words were from deep within and yet I'm not sure they were mine. It was not so much a peaceful spirituality, as something decidedly malevolent in the air. This is what I wrote:

The roar of the sea, as

the wind batters me,

is no concern of mine.

The whispering waves

that carry for days

the thoughts of those

left far far behind.

A single crow, all alone,

goes head to head with me.

I stare him down, the

war is won-he flees

for pastures green.

I see a woman walk my way,

she's wearing black today,

but as I nod knowingly-

she smiles and fades away.

Jacob (continued)

That is until, three minutes and twenty-two seconds later, when a large droplet of water landed squarely on his right jaw, causing Jacob to flinch. Why hadn’t he bought a different coat? The question assaulted his brain, leading him to almost miss the pedestrian subway- a necessary, if rather irksome, path on his daily journey. He cursed lightly under his breath, before regaining his composure, steadying his pace and making his way through, unscathed, for another day (that particular subway had been the focus of forty-one robberies, three rapes and two murders, to date). He was so focused on the numbers in his head, he wasn’t prepared for his own arrival.

The building accosted him as he turned the corner. Always the same feeling of bile rising to his mouth. Yet, as he walked through its doors, the customary relief of knowing filled his nostrils. Judy (a square-eyed girl who smelled of vanilla and had a brain the size of a pea) was at reception. Jacob passed by, ignoring her cheery good morning, putting his hand to his nose and mouth (her smell sickened him).

He made it to the elevator and stepped inside. He didn’t understand people’s fear of elevators. For him there was a sense of calm, a cool, steely solace that he greatly appreciated. Thirty-three seconds later, he stepped out in to the basement, looked left than right, before heading down the corridor to begin his day’s work.