Tia Sangtam The rippling sound of rain, It comes down hard; Hitting the rooftops and leaves; It comes down, making a beautiful sight Then vanishes- as they fall and seeps out Just like the drops of rain; Is our life, beautiful as the rain drops It leaves behind a mark that lives Bitter, joyous, beautiful and memorable I had a mother, who was a blessing for whom she knew; A smile she brought whom she met; Hundreds of memoirs she made and left- Her kindness and laughter lingers, though gone where the Angel’s dwells But weep not- for all things not substantial; We may follow soon her footsteps But, but too soon to be gone! My lips whispers forever, “A mother’s love is the best of all, It never ages.”
