Answer:
I grow where no flower grows, where no light touches the walls, up or down, that I don't care, was here before people were.
How can you burn an apple, blueberry, rose and pumpkin without leaving any ashes but retaining the smell of it?
Weight in my belly, Trees on my back, I travel fast in my place, but feet is a feature I lack
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
Upon me you can tread, though softly under cover. And I will take you places, that you have yet to discover. I'm high, and I'm low, though flat in the middle. And though a joy to the children, adults think of me little.
I have two eyes in the front and a lot of eyes on my tail