This ought to be a line in the poem. Or the first line of your next poem! It really digs deep.
(I love the way poetry can work like this, like you do here, discovering lines elsewhere, working your own way around and through those lines to something new.)
Good stuff, here. Honest stuff. The rain clouds above could put out the fire here at the end. But they don’t. And that’s love, too. You got that exactly right.