Every dawn begins with me. At dusk I'll be the first you see, and daybreak couldn't come without. What midday centers all about. Daises grow from me, I'm told. And when I come, I end all code, but in the sun I won't be found. Yet still, each day I'll be around. What am I?
A cloud was my mother, the wind is my father. My son is the cool stream, and my daughter is the fruit of the land. A rainbow is my bed, the earth my final resting place. And I'm the torment of man. What am I?