Answer:
Three lives have I. Gentle enough to soothe the skin. Light enough to caress the sky. Hard enough to crack rocks.
What force and strength cannot get through. I, with a gentle touch, can do. Many in the street would stand. Were I not a friend at hand.
I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played.
I don't think or eat or slumber. Or move around or fear thunder. Just like you I look the same but I can't harm you or be your bane.
What loses its head in the morning and gets it back at night?
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.