Answer:
I am the outstretched fingers that seize and hold the wind. Wisdom flows from me in other hands. Upon me are sweet dreams, my merest touch brings laughter
The ones who see it may go blind, Contracting the fool's madness. You have to dig to find it, Crush big stones or mine it. Wash dirt clumps in a pan and wait for it to settle, A shiny, precious metal.
Inside a burning house, this thing is best to make. And best to make it quickly, before the fire's too much to take.
Who is it that rows quickly with four oars, but never comes out from under his own roof?
A word I know, six letters it contains. Subtract just one and twelve remains.
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?