I’m called a parent, but I never give birth. I host every connection, route every signal, and when I fail, nothing else can boot. What am I?

A porcelain boat in a tiled sea, Where bubbles and rubber ducks roam free. A tranquil retreat from the daily grind, Where worries and water intertwine.

I never walk, yet always stand, I hold my pulse in polished hand. I speak in ticks, I breathe in tocks, I teach the room with falling knocks. I’m tall with age but born brand-new, I raise the young and old ones too. No face of mine will ever talk, Yet I command the way you walk. What am I

An ancestor, a clock, and a clause walk into a bar. All are the same, no matter how far. Shaping history and transcending time, He is the foundation for families, historical presence, and a chime.

I have only adoration for you, and I spread this far and wide I can support you with or without a human vessel If directed at flames I can cause heated emotions to grow stronger But I only wish to cool you down What am I?