Serpent Mother

By Sheridan Barber

The sun rose again today.

It is nothing unusual, and yet with it I feel a sense of joy radiating from my children, saturating the air. The trees bask in it’s warmth, and flowers stretch their heads toward it’s glorious light. It signifies the start of a new day for the once numerous creatures living here, a beacon to chase away the silence of the night and bring instead a symphony of nature’s music to herald it’s arrival.

But there is a poison here, slowly spreading beneath the peaceful exterior that this place presents. It slowly eats away at my freedom and peace. It murders my children and pollutes my land. The creatures and plants here are young. Their minds are so simple. So like children. They do not understand what ails them. They do not realise that there is no hope for a future. Only I remember before. I, and the few trees that have thus far survived the ignorance and greed of this parasite.

Before, there was peace. For a long time I was sleeping. Watching with apathy as the circles of life spiralled around in repetitive loops that I likened to my own endless coils. It was a long time ago when they first came.

They were strange creatures, almost completely hairless. They balanced on two feet without the aid of a tail and had a dark colouring that suggested that they lived beneath the sun. From across the water they came, borne of a different land. And yet I welcomed and adopted them. They were something new and interesting. My dreams were changed, my coils loosened ever so slightly to encompass them.

The sun-darkened ones had an intelligence and adaptability that I had not seen before, and it surprised me. But I did not fear for my children. They were kind and used us only as much as needed. I didn’t mind. They understood much and replaced what they took, merging effortlessly within the existing circles of creation. As the kangaroo and the eucalyptus had before them, they too became my children.

In return they danced for me, their dark bodies celebrating their existence in a silent song. Thanking me for mine. Unlike any species before them they recognised me. As a mother and a creator; they gave me a name, meaning ‘rainbow serpent’.

I should have known that change is a constant. Just as the dark ones came to me, more would also. Time has a different meaning for me. It did not feel like a long time had passed. But content as I was, this time the change was unwelcome.

They came from across the ocean, much like my sun-darkened children. But while similar in shape, these were coloured palely, as though they had been crafted by moonlight. I welcomed them, as I welcomed their sun-cousins. But they did not care for me. I loosened my coils to allow them to share in my precious circles, and they destroyed them. Why? They slaughtered the creatures and burned down the wild forests. For what purpose? They chased and killed my sun-children, their cousins. To what end? I don’t understand.

In their greed and thirst for control they destroyed the beauty, the serenity of this place. They left few alive. Just enough creatures to feed from. Just enough trees to shade them. Just enough wood to build their houses. Just enough for themselves.

My colour has dulled with the silent screams of my children. Each cycle there is less. Each cycle, my colour dulls, and my children forget my beauty. Each cycle, my power weakens, my coils untie. The circles are unbalanced, my body’s shape has faltered.

My dream has become a nightmare. I am tired of dreaming. I am tired of the pain you cause me. I am tired of being helpless as you destroy me and the ones I mother.

You are a parasite. And a parasite needs a host to survive. I understand this. When my coils completely unravel what will hold this land together? Without the host the parasite cannot survive. And without my children to protect, I have no reason to play host.

Why? What made you feel superior to my children? Why? For what reason do you take until nothing remains? Why? What do you have to gain? I see the meaning of time now. There is no time for regrets. There is no time for a future.

The time of Dreaming is over. I want to wake. I want to let this nightmare fade into nothingness. And then, I want to dream again.

Forgive me my children.