Veil of whispers in the night's embrace, cloaking secrets in its spectral lace. Where shadows dance and visions stray, it hides the road at break of day.

Left to wander in the cloud, rejected by the spheres. Until I’m freed, sent on a trip that may take many years. Enjoy my tail from ages past, my intension, don’t assume. I may bring life to barren lands, or spell your very doom.

I have eyes and roots in the ground. My skin may be brown, but on the inside I can be any orange, purple, or white.

I have a graceful, sweeping neck, and feathers white as winter’s check. I glide on water, calm and still, but mess with my young and I’ll make you run for the hill.

I turn without wheels and rise without wings, I dance with no rhythm, yet stir many things. I’m chased but not caught, I’m felt but not seen, I’m silence in motion, both gentle and mean. What am I?