I might come through the window, I'm often at the bar, I am used to send your sons, To fight in lands afar. What am I ?

In the meadow, a gentle gait, not a gallop, not a stroll. Like a dance on tiptoes, it’s a pace that warms the soul.

I’m a movie that’s very long, about an iceberg that’s very strong.

I have many teeth, but I never bite. I part the waves, but I have no boat. I fix your tangles from morning to night, And often live in your bathroom or tote.

I am made of a stone inside of a tree, I can make your message last an eternity. You push me around with your finger and thumb, The more you move me, the less I become. What am I ?