Answer:
Slayer of regrets, old and new, sought by many, found by few.
Until I am measured I am not known, Yet how you miss me when I have flown.
In the forest, this blends in just right, but every December it is covered with lights. What is it?
I'm flat. You use me everyday. You need me to live. But you give me away everyday. I'm coloured and I have a founding father on me. What am I?
It is a path of cow juice spread across the sky but cannot be seen by the naked eye
In birth I spring forth, in life I unfold. In death I wilt and die, but rebirth restores all.