Tell me now, and don't be late. What kind of bird can lift the most weight?

I dance with the wind but have no feet, Held by a string, I rise with ease. Cut me loose and I drift away. What am I?

I'm made of rope or woven thread, without a floor, I'm still a bed. I'm a bridge between two trees, a see-through swaying breeze.

In the velvet sky, a glowing art, A cosmic map, each star a part. Stories told through stars in flight, A timeless dance in the night.

The moon shows it’s time. To crop to refine. What’s ripe for the taking. Field, tree, bush or vine.