In the hollows of my soul when it rains with leaden sadness

In the hollows of my soul when it rains with leaden sadness, And the clouds gather like grey jurors around me, I weave an umbrella from the glimmer of a dimmed dream, From that pure laughter, saved from under the tempest's sway. When the rain wanders as tears over the inner stones, I shelter my heart with a dance of merry flame, With the memory of a first love, or the first spring, And I turn each drop into a note of delicate symphony. I let the drops of yearning fall into the outstretched palm of hope, Which turns agonies into pearls that adorn me, Making from every rain, a tapestry that weaves me stronger, From joys fleeting, a curtain that guards against untold times. And when the storm bellows as only the cold wind knows, I respond with my umbrella woven from yesterday's smiles, It breaks the waves, turning each thunder into a blessing, There, beneath my multicolored shield, I hide and find myself. In gusts growing fiercer, drawn with a bow across the curtain of the day, I search the sky for a ray to warm me, to dry the clouds of sighs, And wrapped in the mantle made from the fabric of "once was", I no longer feel it dripping in me, I just feel new, illuminated spaces growing. Each cloudburst in my heart now brings truths on wings of song, Beneath my playful umbrella, joys become the armor I wear, In the crackle of doubt, I catch the courage to laugh with the rain, And I let myself be drenched by the miracle of life, for each rain washes, purifies, is reborn.