I crown beasts or blare on the streets. I herald the start of battle, or lament its defeats. One word, many shapes are worn, speak it now, for I am a ?

I spend my years in the dirt, I crawl to the surface in a big burst, I live a short life but when I’m alive I make thunderous sound

I have been around billions of years yet I cannot speak, but many people listen to my sweet music. To build a house under my canopy is to be oblivious. The stars are my parents. Though my parents died long before I was born. What am I?

I move across oceans with power untamed, or greet from afar when a hand is raised. I vanish in sand yet return once more, I’m both in the water and gesture at the door.

I am agile and graceful, I flit with the breeze. Or glide right down, usually with ease. Two lives I lead: one skyward, one deep. A word with two wings, in your throat it may keep.