It's been around for millions of years, but it's no more than a month old. What is it?

In former days my father and mother, Abandoned me dead, lacking breath
Or life or being. Then one began, A kinswoman kind, to care for and love me;
Covered me with her clothing, wrapped me in her raiment, With the same affection she felt for her own;
Until by the law of my life's shaping, Under alien bosom I quickened with breath.
My foster mother fed me thereafter, Until I grew sturdy and strengthened for flight.
Then of her dear ones, of daughters and sons, She had the fewer for what she did.

Oft I must strive with wind and wave, Battle them both when under the sea
I feel out the bottom, a foreign land. In lying still I am strong in the strife;
If I fail in that they are stronger than I, And wrenching me loose, soon put me to rout.
They wish to capture what I must keep. I can master them both if my grip holds out,
If the rocks bring succor and lend support, Strength in the struggle. Ask me my name!