Let me warm my heart by the flame

Let me cry with the clouds.
For a moment,
Let me say I am not yet ready,
that I have a long way to go.
And tell you I got another essay in,
a little late - but it is in.
Let me stew winter fruits
and bake warm pies,
Let me dry my jeans -
and warm my heart by the flame.
Let me laugh for crocheting
fingerless mitts that look like medieval armour,
and start again
(in a darker shade grey)
At this moment -
Let me tell you my dreams;
of running my hand
through the water of the Dead Sea
and ushering prayers for peace -
Smelling the breeze off
the Gulf of Aden...
Of smiling at the faces of friends;
who I love so well,
but have never met -
and holding a bunch of lilacs to my chest.