Answer:
You throw me away, I find my way back. Traditionally, I'm wooden with an arch in my back. What am I?
Sometimes dark and sometimes bright, I make my way among twinkling lights. Seas and oceans obey my call, yet mountains I cannot move at all. What am I?
Who makes it, has no need of it. Who buys it, has no use for it. Who uses it, can't see it. What is it?
I direct you from outer space.
If you drop me I'm sure to crack. But give me a smile and I'll always smile back.
The more of me you take, the more I appear behind you. What am I?