To what end will you have lived your life
when the final curtain is drawn, light snuffed out,
last sigh released ?
On the twilight stone or flowery urn,
what shall it say on that final day?
Behind that dash between dates engraved,
what will your report card read ?
I’ve seen that dash and have felt dismay
at how little it says of a transient life,
Where time is no king, but deeds the thing
that separates the dash from the possible splash!
To understand that dash, I’d like to know,
how fast did you sprint in the ultimate race,
how far and wide, how high, did you hurl that ball,
and how did you fare when you lost that toss?
Besides the dash, I’d like to know, did you also splash.
Was it a sprinkle or spray or splattering display?
Or would you rather trade in your dash for ……
A series of splashes – some small, others noteable.
For some of us, there may be a question mark,
Yet others will shout for an exclamation sign.
Those impatient, would put a hasty end to all of this(.)
I hesitate a little, behind the comma, uncertain….
In the end I suppose, the punctuation doesn’t matter.
I’m inclined: toward a soaking splash – than a harmful splatter!