Answer:
I am the outstretched fingers that seize and hold the wind. Wisdom flows from me in other hands. Upon me are sweet dreams dreamt, my merest touch brings laughter.
In your fire you hear me scream, creaking and whining, yet I am dead before you lay me in your hearth.
A harvest sown and reaped on the same day In an unplowed field, Which increases without growing, Remains whole though it is eaten Within and without, Is useless and yet The staple of nations.
Who spends the day at the window, goes to the table for meals. And hides at night?
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. Whoever knows it, wants it not
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?