Answer:
I am the black child of a white father a wingless bird flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me even though there is no cause for grief and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air.
I keep growing and am practically indestructible. I get eaten, but always come back. I survive cold and lie everywhere. You see me everyday. What am I?
I cannot be bought cannot be sold even if Iām sometimes made of gold.
When it comes to me you go on red and stop on green.
I love to twist and dance. Though wingless, I fly high up into the sky. What am I?
What is always coming but never arrives?