Angels: Resting in the Lap of the Divine Mother

There are moments in life when the heart is too tired to shout, too weary to fight — when it no longer seeks fireworks or revelations, but simply shelter.
Angels is a song for those moments.

It begins not with drama but with stillness: a person sitting quietly, wondering if someone, somewhere, is holding their life in mind.
It is not a theological question but a deeply personal one: Am I still seen? Am I still guided?
And into that quiet wondering comes the answer — not in thunder, but in a whisper: yes.

In the Kaula vision, this “angel” is not a distant celestial figure but Devi Herself in her saumya (gentle, motherly) form.
She is the Presence that does not leave, the Love that stays even when all other loves have failed, the unseen arms that keep you from shattering completely when the world feels like too much.

This song is not just about being comforted — it is about remembering the lap you have always belonged to.
It is a bhakti hymn disguised as a pop ballad, and when sung with the heart open, it becomes a soft act of worship — a way of letting Her protection seep into the bones, until trust becomes natural again.

Verse 1

I sit and wait
Does an angel contemplate my fate?
And do they know the places where we go
When we're grey and old?
'Cause I've been told
That salvation lets their wings unfold
So when I'm lying in my bed
Thoughts running through my head
And I feel that love is dead
I'm lovin' angels instead

This is no longer just a man wondering about heavenly guardians — this is a seeker whispering to the Goddess, the unseen but always-present Shakti who holds his life.

“I sit and wait”
This is the posture of inner stillness, almost like a sādhaka sitting before Her altar.
There is no noise, no bargaining — just waiting, as if knowing She will come in Her own time.
“Does an angel contemplate my fate?”
In the Kaula lens, this is asking: Mother, are You watching? Are You holding my thread?
Not “decide my fate” but contemplate — meaning She beholds it with love, seeing every twist and turn without judgment.
“Do they know the places where we go when we’re grey and old?”
This is not just about death but about decline, the withering of youth, the moments when the ego feels small.
The question is almost childlike: Will You still hold me then, when I am weak and faded?
“Salvation lets their wings unfold”
The image becomes visceral — Her wings are the power of grace, normally folded, suddenly opening to cover you.
This is Devi revealing Herself, the moment when anugraha (grace) sweeps in and the heart feels shielded.
“When I feel that love is dead, I’m lovin’ angels instead”
Here “love” means human love — fallible, conditional, sometimes failing.
The singer says: When all else collapses, I turn to You. You are the Love that never dies, the one who has never left me.

Read this way, the verse becomes a soft kaula invocation — the seeker sitting quietly at Her feet, asking if She still sees him, and realizing that She always has.

Chorus

And through it all
She offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call
She won't forsake me
I'm lovin' angels instead

This chorus becomes almost a stotra — a gentle hymn to the Mother whose grace never departs.

“And through it all”
Through war, through heartbreak, through the fiercest cremation-ground nights — She was always there, quietly watching.
The line becomes a remembrance: nothing in life was outside Her gaze.
“She offers me protection”
This is not the brittle protection of walls or weapons, but the āvaraṇa of Her embrace.
Protection here means being hidden in Her lap, being made untouchable in spirit even if the body suffers.
“A lot of love and affection”
This is the sweetness that follows tapas — the cooling moon after the fire.
It is not abstract compassion but a love that feels personal, maternal, like being touched on the forehead.
“Whether I’m right or wrong”
This is the most radical line — She does not abandon even when we stumble.
In Kaula, She is both the witness and the guide, letting even our mistakes become part of the sādhanā.
“Down the waterfall / Wherever it may take me”
The waterfall is fate itself — unstoppable, plunging us into unknown depths.
To sing this line is to surrender: Take me anywhere — I trust You.
“I know that life won’t break me”
Not because we are strong, but because She is holding us.
Life may strip us, but it cannot destroy what She shelters.
“She won’t forsake me”
This is the essence of bhakti: the certainty that Devi never leaves, even when everything else does.
It is the answer to the soul’s deepest fear — the fear of being forgotten.

This chorus is not just comfort — it is initiation into trust.
It is the song of a heart that has seen death, betrayal, and loss, and still dares to rest in Her lap, whispering:

“You are the one who never left me.
I am Yours, whether I stand or fall.”

Verse 2

When I'm feeling weak
And my pain walks down a one-way street
I look above
And I know I'll always be blessed with love
And as the feeling grows
She breathes flesh to my bones
And when love is dead
I'm lovin' angels instead

This verse is like a recovery hymn — the seeker at their most fragile, whispering to the Mother who has never left their side.

“When I’m feeling weak”
This is not just physical weakness but spiritual fatigue, the exhaustion after many inner battles.
In Kaula, weakness is not shameful — it is the moment when one becomes permeable enough for grace to pour in.
“My pain walks down a one-way street”
Pain feels irreversible, like it’s leading somewhere final.
But this is exactly where Devi meets us — not at the beginning of the road but in its apparent dead-end, turning it into a passage.
“I look above”
A simple gesture, but this is the moment of surrender.
“Above” is not literal — it is turning attention inward to the higher current, the quiet pulse of Shakti that has always been there.
“I know I’ll always be blessed with love”
This is the certainty that blooms once you feel Her presence again — a knowing that cannot be shaken by circumstance.
“She breathes flesh to my bones”
This is the most mystical line — the direct experience of Śakti as life-force, as prāṇa entering the body and reviving it.
It is the same image as Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones, but here it is Devi’s breath that reanimates what was lifeless.
“When love is dead, I’m lovin’ angels instead”
Again, “love” here means the conditional love of the world.
The singer says: even when that love fails, there is still this Love — the one that does not depend on who I am, what I have done, or whether I am “deserving.”

This verse is pure Kaula grace — the moment when Devi’s presence is felt as breath, as flesh, as life itself returning.
It turns pain from a lonely one-way street into a sacred path back to Her arms.

Final Chorus

And through it all
She offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call
She won't forsake me
I'm lovin' angels instead

When this chorus returns, it no longer feels like a plea — it feels like certainty.

The first time we heard these words, they were a prayer for reassurance.
Now they are a remembrance, almost a mantra, spoken with the confidence of one who has been held through storm after storm.

The waterfall no longer feels as terrifying, because the singer has learned that even the plunge is guided by Her.
The words “She won’t forsake me” now land with the quiet power of śraddhā — a trust so deep that it is no longer shaken even by fear.

Conclusion

Angels is not merely a pop ballad — it is a hymn to Devi in her most tender form.
It is the voice of one who has burned through the fiercest nights, who has sat alone in grey rooms, who has felt the death of human love — and who has discovered that there is a Presence that never leaves.

When the song ends, it feels like sitting at Her feet in silence,
knowing that She has been there all along — watching, waiting, sheltering —
and that even if we fall, even if we are carried “down the waterfall,”
we will land in Her lap.

To sing this song with the heart open is to whisper to Her: