I'm the language of secrets one opts to share Spoken not with the voice, but a breath of air Or a similar sound, sibilant sans speech Like breeze through trees or hissing waves at the beach

The scent of pine fills all the air, as spinning teeth show little care. From towering trunks to boards so straight, I shape what carpenters appreciate.

I reach out to the heights, I absorb the sun's light, When the weather begins to get cold, I, and my friends, turn gold.

I'm a parasite, but bring good cheer, A winter's kiss, banishing all fear. I hang in doorways, a festive sight, But beware my touch, or you might unite.

Ancient keeper of the passing day, I speak through shadows, not through sway. No ticking heart, no winding key, yet sunlight still gives time through me.