You Needn’t Become Smaller

I carried my life in corners 
In bags that bruised my hands
I learned to leave my shoes on I learned to never land But something in the window 
Still caught a little light
 Three old velvet suitcases
 Waiting in the quiet And I heard a softer calling 
Like a door inside the rain
 You needn’t become smaller
 To be welcomed by your name You needn’t become smaller
 You needn’t disappear
 The room has kept a candle
 And the garden brought you here Lilac in the motorcar 
Cream gloves at the door
 Someone saw the silver 
Under all I’d hidden for Rose light on the mirror
 Gold lamps in the room 
A bed with curtains breathing
 Like the promise of a bloom And I heard a softer calling
 Through the window, through the air You needn’t become smaller
 There is room for you in there You needn’t become smaller
 You needn’t disappear 
The room has kept a candle
 And the garden brought you here A journal by the water
 A ribbon in the spine
 Frogs among the reedsong
 Chimes across the pines Tea beneath the roses
 Steam above the cup
 A little glass-held garden
 Waking something up And the roses leaned closer
 And the silver spoon rang clear
 The fountain became a veil of light
 And the gate began to appear You needn’t become smaller
 You needn’t disappear
 The world is turning gently
 There is room for you here You needn’t become smaller
 You needn’t disappear
 The first bloom opens softly
 When the heart is safe enough to hear