Answer:
It is destruction made out of thin air, You hear it howl and give a prayer, Through barns and houses it will tear. It is a deadly funnel, Of violent and twisting air.
You throw me out when you want to use me and you take me in when you don't want to use me. Who am I?
With head without hair. With mouth without tooth.
Without a bridle, or a saddle, across a thing I ride a-straddle. And those I ride, by help of me, though almost blind, are made to see.
Die without me, never thank me. Walk right through me, never feel me. Always watching, never speaking. Always lurking, never seen.
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?