Planted in dirt, I grow your greens, Laced through stories, I twist and turn, Outlaws will hatch me behind the scenes, Trace my points and the truth you'll learn.

I glow without flame, I burn without rising, And though I am dying, I can start life again.

I grow from trunks and reach for the sky, I split from paths where choices lie. In banks or armies, I help expand, what am I, stretched across the land?

I'm gentle in a meadow, deadly in a fight, I spin above your ceiling on a summer night, Each morning at your mirror I kiss you clean, And, under every skater I carve the frozen scene.

From fancy ships, to rough days in a truck, keeping one of these avoids a clusterproblem! In the wilderness, a cabin keeps many of these, but also flashes with fire in a thing with tubes.