I'm created when something breaks, My edges are sharp, be careful for goodness sakes. A piece from a glass, a rock or even a mirror. To be stabbed with me, is surely a horror. Figure this out, it shouldn't be hard...

One of me saves nine, I hear, Another comes with thread and sticks, And yet another with big ears Has designation Six-Two-Six You may see me on clothing, art, And even flesh I've traveled, But rest assured, should I depart, It all will come unraveled

Do not look at me I bind metal with an arc Making many, one

I'm considered a stone from heaven, and can even be imperial, a green treasure. Artists love carving me, and mothers name their daughters after me.

Twisting tales of woolen thread, a storyteller’s breath in a cozy bed. When needles dance, I weave my song, a colorful journey, both short and long.