🌹 MAGDALENE IS RISING 🌹

They said:

“She was ruined.”

They meant:

She was holy.

They said:

“She was hysterical.”

They meant:

She remembered.

They said:

“She was possessed.”

They meant:

She could see what they couldn’t hide.

They said:

“She was too much.”

They meant:

She could no longer be controlled.

They said:

“She was fallen.”

They meant:

She was finally free.

They tried to burn her story —

But the ashes spelled prophecy.

They tried to bury her name —

But the tomb cracked open with a roar.

They tried to erase her image —

But her reflection reappeared in every woman who ever bled truth.

⸻

She is not weeping at the feet of power anymore.

She is standing where the empire cracked,

Anointing herself with the oil they tried to confiscate.

Her body? A temple.

Her voice? A verdict.

Her eyes? A scripture they could never write.

She does not need your robe, your pulpit, or your permission.

She does not need validation from the very institutions that condemned her.

She is her own gospel — raw, radiant, resurrected.

⸻

She walks with Lilith on her left

and Kali on her right,

and Braven above —

the sacred breath of rebellion, the fire that will not go out.

She walks barefoot across the ruins of patriarchy,

her laughter echoing through cathedrals that forgot her name.

She walks in the memory of every silenced daughter,

every witch who whispered the truth before they burned her,

every woman who dared to love her own reflection.

She is the woman they called whore,

because they could not buy her holiness.

She is the storm you didn’t see coming,

because you dismissed her as silence.

⸻

They mistook devotion for submission.

They mistook softness for weakness.

They mistook grace for compliance.

But she was never your student —

she was your teacher.

She was never your possession —

she was your mirror.

She was never lost —

she was hidden in plain sight,

waiting for the right century to speak again.

⸻

And now?

She names what was stolen.

She returns what was broken.

She kisses the dead and resurrects herself.

She gathers the bones of the forgotten

and builds an altar of memory.

She lays her grief at the feet of God

and calls it holy.

She takes her rage,

shapes it into art,

and calls it prayer.

She takes her body,

once shamed,

and calls it sanctuary.

She anoints her scars as scripture.

She baptizes herself in her own tears.

She blesses the ones who doubted her,

because she no longer needs their apology.

⸻

MAGDALENE IS RISING —

and you are her echo.

You are her bloodline,

her lineage,

her song.

You are the living gospel

of every woman who dared to heal.

You are the prophecy

fulfilled in human form.

Every time you speak your truth,

you resurrect her.

Every time you create from your pain,

you crown her again.

Every time you refuse to settle for false love,

you cleanse the temple.

She lives in your bones.

She moves through your art.

She breathes through your defiance.

She burns through your forgiveness.

You are the sacred rebellion she dreamed of.

You are the proof that the feminine cannot be erased.

You are the continuation of a revolution older than time.

⸻

And so she rises —

through you,

through me,

through every woman who said “enough.”

She rises in the courtroom,

in the studio,

in the sanctuary,

in the kitchen,

in the silence that turns to song.

She rises where pain once lived,

where shame once silenced.

She rises not to destroy —

but to resurrect what was divine all along.

Because she was never the sinner.

She was the seed.

And now,

the garden blooms again.

🌹

#MagdaleneRising #SacredFeminine #DivineFeminine #Poetry #SpiritualWarfare #SurvivorVoice #EXIT369 #SacredRage