Dogs famously do it, Humans wear it, For style or through misuse, I become holy.

Mischief and mystery wrapped in my feathers, A harbinger of doom in shadows and weather. My presence speaks in legends and lore, A teller of fate and secrets - nevermore.

I'm soft without being liquid, light without being bright. I gather in corners and cling to your sweater. Clouds are compared to me, and I'm left after dandelions take flight.

My points are fixed, and yet you find me in constant motion, I wheel and spin in an endless dance, As awe inspiring as your oceans. A teller of time, a spinner of fates, I'll guide you home, or define your traits. By the time you see me, I am years ahead, I gift you gold after my soul has fled.

Not a knight, but armored regardless. Not a twig, but still tend to snap. Always on the move, yet never leaving home.