I have no shape yet i can move i have no voice yet i can soothe or roar you feel me but cannot see me i can be gentle or strong. What am i?

Silent guardians of history, sculpted by time's hand, they stand steadfast against the elements. Unyielding and ancient, they cradle the earth's secrets, whispering tales of past eons in their stony silence.

In the mornin', it rises with glee, A golden coin gifted to thee. It dances on dew, And bids clouds adieu, A warm hug for the world, can't ye see?

you talk to me in the middle of night, i show you a light that’s not mine

In cauldrons of aqua, a green spirit’s delight, A cleansing specter, unseen by night. Humble alchemist of water's rebirth, Its touch turns murk to purity, for what it's worth.