I burn what I carry to flee what I call home, For if the burning ends I shall come back home.

I am an open space enclosed by walls that do not confine. I sit at the center of homes, schools, and old strongholds. People cross me without entering or leaving a building. I can be quiet as a garden or busy as a gathering place. What am I?

A rock won't do, I'd much rather sleep on you

Sometimes I'm tall Sometimes I'm short Sometimes I'm wide Sometimes I'm narrow Not a tree but I do have flowers