A Riddle

An ABAB rhyming riddle of eight lines. Can you guess the subject?

Its use must cause its slipping from our hands;
Its measurement has light years joined to blinks.
Too much, you’ll notice, rapidly expands;
And yet: too little mocks us as it shrinks.

With ticks and tocks its passage codified,
This captor holds us hostage ’til we sleep.
Yet where, in conscious stillness, we abide
In moments, what a harvest we can reap!

Reviews

[Gee]

'Tis time methinks. Never enough and passing to quickly, especially as we age. Nicely done Shiv

[aLittlePain]

Thought provoking by words perfectly woven!
What an enigmatic write.

Ngā mihi maioha (warmest regards)
Rachel

[I am that I am]

Hmm is it time and space? Great little riddle, Shiv. Thanks for sharing.

[Shiv]

It's Time! Thanks for reviewing :)