Answer:
My children are near and far. No matter that I know where they are. The gift I give them make their day. But if I were gone they would wander away.
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
We are all around, yet to us you are half blind. Sunlight makes us invisible, and difficult to find
What instrument can make any sound and be heart, but not touched or seen?
Through its wounds, water does run. It once held many but now has none. What is it?
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.