I once found a poem called 'The Hyphen' on the Internet about the hyphen, which separates the dates of birth and death on a typical tombstone. I liked the concept and re-wrote the poem for a presentation when I was unable to access the original.

The Hyphen

(Through the eyes of Martin Collis)

I read of a man who was asked to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on the tombstone, the beginning and the end.
The first and the last days are markers in time.
But what do those days really mean?
What matters is not the birth or the death
But the hyphen which lies in between.
For the hyphen is time you spend on this earth.
Just a hyphen to show what a life's really worth.
And it isn't a house; it isn't a car,
And it isn't a 53 Gibson guitar.
It's not a position; it's not a possession
Or membership in a prestigious profession.
It's not in the labels on your clothes or your shoes
Or the places you've been or seen on a cruise.
We're human beings, not human doings
Who pursue money and fame and keep on pursuing
The words on the tombstones are kindness, and love,
Family, friendship and laughter.
These are the things that continue to ring
When your body has reached the hereafter.
Chose wisely and well when selecting the goals
That you chose to base your life on.
To miss the joy is to miss it all
And a terrible waste of a hyphen.

painting : The Phoenix : artist unknown