Answer:
A canvas full of stars.
Deep, deep, do they go. Spreading out as they go. Never needing any air. They are sometimes as fine as hair
People want it, and when they have it, they use it by giving it
They're big and yet so far away, We see them at the end of day. They're small and they're above. We see them when we close our eyes, Each time we are in love.
A section of the calendar dedicated to mother nature.
I touch the Earth, I touch the sky, but if I touch you, you’ll likely die. What am I?