In the Dreamtime, when the land was flat and silent, there were no rivers, no trees, no people—only red dust and sleeping spirits beneath the crust of the Earth. Then one morning, a deep stirring began under the ground, a slow breath that rolled through stone and sand.
From that breath rose Goorialla, the Rainbow Serpent, coiled in shimmering light. Her scales held every color—emerald, gold, sapphire, crimson—and as she moved, the world shifted. Hills rose where she curved; valleys formed where she rested.
When she lifted her head to the sun, it scattered through her body and made rainbows stretch across the empty sky.
But the Rainbow Serpent was lonely. The land was too still. She pressed her ear to the earth and heard the spirits murmuring in sleep. “Wake,” she whispered. “It is time to live.”
Where she passed, her body carved wide channels that filled with water. Lakes formed behind her, rivers followed in her trail. When her breath met the wind, it made the first rain.
The sleeping spirits rose as the first people, blinking in wonder at light and color. They saw the Serpent gliding across the new rivers and fell to their knees.
“Great Mother of Rainbows,” they cried, “you have given us life.”
Goorialla smiled. “Then promise you will walk gently on the earth, keep the waters clean, and share what they give.”
For a time, the promise held. People learned to fish, to drink, to paint her colors on cave walls. But one season, when food grew scarce, two brothers from the desert quarreled over a pool that belonged to another tribe.
They called upon Goorialla, asking her to judge. She rose from the river in a glittering arc. “You have broken your word,” she said sadly. “You treat the waters as your own.”
The brothers trembled, but pride hardened their hearts. “We are the strongest,” they said. “We take what we need.”
Goorialla sighed. “Then you must learn that power without care is drought without end.”
She opened her mouth, and thunder poured forth. The rains came hard and fast, flooding the land. When the waters receded, the brothers were gone—turned into the first rocks along the river’s edge, warning all who came after.
When the people returned, they bowed before her reflection in the floodwater. “We will remember,” they vowed. “We will paint your story so no one forgets.”
Since then, whenever rainbows stretch after a storm, the people say it is Goorialla’s promise shining once more: that if humankind keeps faith with the land, the rivers will never run dry.
And somewhere deep in the red heart of Australia, they say the Rainbow Serpent still sleeps, dreaming of the balance between creation and care.
Moral of the Story
Creation is not a gift to own but a trust to protect. The land breathes through our respect.
Knowledge Check
1. Who was Goorialla?
The Rainbow Serpent, creator and guardian of rivers and life.
2. What did she create as she moved through the land?
Rivers, lakes, and rain from her colorful body.
3. What promise did she ask from humankind?
To live gently, keep waters pure, and share nature’s gifts.
4. Who broke that promise?
Two brothers who fought over a sacred waterhole.
5. What was their punishment?
They were turned into stone as a warning to others.
6. What does a rainbow symbolize in this story?
The Serpent’s ongoing promise to those who respect the earth.
Origin: Dreamtime story from Arnhem Land, Australia
