ours is not

to cast harsh looks,

to destine one to heaven

and another to hell.

ours is not

to criticize

one for his loudness,

another for her silence.

ours is not

to make light of a solemn occasion,

to jest of the pain,

to stab at the memory

of one who suffered so.

perhaps

ours is not even

to know

the answer to the burning question:

why?

ours is simply

to provide a space

and a time,

to sit and remember,

to share

the good times

and the not-so-good times.

ours is simply

to join hands

and stand together,

to be the strength

for those who do not have their own

ours is simply

to show love,

for perfect love casts out fear.