Riddle maker

I drink the sunlight, bright and free,
Then turn it into energy.
On roofs and fields, I face the sky—
What am I, where sunbeams lie?

I catch the wind but hold no sail,
My spinning arms dance in the gale.
Tomorrow’s towns may thrive through me—
What clean machine could I be?

When sun is gone and winds are still,
I save their power for later will.
As grids grow smart, I’ll guard the night—
What stores tomorrow’s borrowed light?

I’m born when water splits in two,
A weightless fuel, both clean and new.
In future ships and factories,…