The Handmaid’s Tale: A Priestess’ Prophecy of the Fall of Darkness and the Rise of the Sacred Feminine

The Handmaid’s Tale: A Priestess’ Prophecy of the Fall of Darkness and the Rise of the Sacred Feminine

I just finished the last season of The Handmaid’s Tale, and I need to tell you something:

This isn’t just a show. It’s a prophecy. A mirror. A ritual.

It’s the most powerful piece of storytelling our modern world has birthed—because it holds the soul of our collective awakening.

As a priestess, I feel it in every cell: this is not fiction. This is the memory of the feminine rising.

 Womb as a Weapon, Womb as a Temple

At the center of it all is the womb—the holy chalice of life.

In Gilead, the womb is controlled. Owned. Reduced to a political tool. But isn’t that what the dark masculine has tried to do for centuries?

To enslave creation. To possess what is cosmic, wild, and sacred. But you cannot own the womb. You cannot cage creation without eventually destroying yourself.

And that’s why this false system begins to crack—because any structure built on the desecration of the feminine is destined to fall.

 The Red Cloak: Blood, Power, and Memory

The red cloaks are more than costume. They’re symbols of forced identity, of fertility as a weapon, of shame and power.

Red is the color of menstrual blood, of sacrifice, of sacred rites. Once the robe of priestesses, it becomes a uniform of slavery. And yet, even in that distortion, the blood still speaks.

It carries the fire of the witch burned, the mother silenced, the priestess hidden. It holds the story of every woman who's ever been turned into property… and still, still—birthed a new world from her pain.

 Mouths Covered: Silencing the Divine Voice

Their mouths are literally and spiritually covered. The oracles silenced. The wisdom keepers gagged.

It is the ancient war against the voice of the Goddess. When the feminine is silenced, false gods reign. But the show reminds us: the voice is the spell.

And the time of silence is over. We are remembering how to speak—how to roar, sing, scream, and spellcast again.

 The Black Suits: False Power and the Shadow Masculine

The men of Gilead wear black suits—orderly, soulless, performative. They are priests of patriarchy, calling rape a “Ceremony,” calling slavery “Holy.”

But we see them for what they are: Imposters of sacredness. The black suit is not power—it is a mask hiding the deep fear of true life force.

True masculine power does not dominate. It protects, worships, and amplifies the feminine flame. And the world is starving for that remembrance.

 Rape as “Ceremony” and the Stealing of Children

The most disturbing ritual of the show—the “Ceremony”—is spiritual violence dressed in scripture. And it's not fiction. Religions, cults, marriages, governments… have used false holiness to justify domination for lifetimes.

And the children—stolen from their mothers—are not just characters. They are the generations lost to colonization, war, and systemic separation.

But the mother never forgets. And the womb always remembers.

 Jezebel’s: The Corruption of Sensuality

Jezebel’s—the hidden brothel—is perhaps the final betrayal. Where the feminine is dressed up in glitter and objectified behind closed doors.

They use the sacred for entertainment. The sensual for control. They turn the priestess into a prostitute in the name of power.

But the real priestess lives beneath the costume. She knows who she is. And when she rises, all false temples will fall.

 The Sacred Mother is Rising

June is not just a character. She is Lilith. She is Kali.. She is the mother, the rebel, the storm.

She represents every woman who has burned in silence and now chooses to rise in flame. She is the voice of the womb saying, “No more.” She is the Goddess walking through fire to get her children back.

Through her story, we see the return of the Divine Mother. Not in softness alone—but in sacred rage, in love that protects, in truth that cuts through illusion.

The Real Revolution is Sacred

This isn't about revenge. It’s about remembrance.

This isn’t just about women. It’s about the feminine principle returning to balance all things.

Men, too, are being called back to their divine selves—not the controller, but the guardian, the mirror, the lover.

The time of the false masculine is ending. And anyone clinging to control will perish in the fire of their own fear.

But those who choose union—inner and outer—will thrive in the age to come.

To the Ones Remembering...

The Handmaid’s Tale is your initiation. A coded transmission. A soul mirror.

Do not just watch it. Feel it. Witness it. Let it awaken you.

Let it stir your sacred grief. Let it fuel your return to power. Let it burn every illusion of “holy” that was built to keep you small.

You are the sacred flame. You are the womb. You are the storm and the silence before it.

And you, beloved, are rising.

Books from Luna Ora