I have no tongue, but I can tell tales of arrivals. I have no voice of my own, yet I mimic chimes and buzzes. I am mounted but never ride. What am I?

A slender thing with silent might it rests in hand yet shapes the night it has no voice yet speaks with will it bends the air and time stands still no blade it bears yet cuts through fear no engine hums yet draws things near in stories old and games of play it guides the path and shows the way it channels thought through wood or core a simple stick yet so much more what am i that holds such grace a quiet tool with power in place.

It can build a nest Or a fire Either way for it to be best More than one, you'll require

Metallic mind detects the unknown, whispers from afar. From distant realms, they stand alone, a mystery that isn't our own.

Spun fine into thread. In beds. Under heads. Looming white, like a moonlight stead. Make your pick, before the seed-wind spreads. Fibrous from nature. Polyester it dreads.