Yakumama - Amazonian Legend
Date Published
Yakumama, the Water's heart
The elders say that, at the origin of time, when rivers were still children and the sky had not yet learned to rain, Yakumama was born, a giant serpent who lives in the river.
The Mother of Water.
Her body, longer than the eternal riverbed, shimmered with scales that embraced the colors of the rainbow; and her eyes… Her eyes were two bright stars suspended over mystery, capable of seeing the invisible, reading the secret pulse of what would be born.
"I am river.
I am womb.
I am memory.
In my waters is born and dies
everything that walks."
Where her scales touched the current, life sprang forth: fish were born luminous, trees grew taller and greener, and women gave birth to healthy children as gifts from the water.
For this reason, many peoples recognize her as the Mother of Fertility, womb of the jungle, liquid belly that sustains existence.
Yakumama protects rivers, lakes, and ponds from all harm: those who pollute her waters are returned to silence, and those who honor them receive nourishment, clarity, and protection.
Yakumama is the guardian of balance, of the heartbeat that unites those who fly, those who swim, and those who dream beneath the humid earth.
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Tahu and the Lament of the Future
Centuries passed, and in a village surrounded by trees as old as the night, there lived a young man named Tahu, with light steps and a heart attentive to the whispers of the forest.
On a moonless night, when the jungle seemed to hold its breath, Tahu heard a lament emerging from the river’s womb:
a deep pain,
an ancient call.
"Who cries in the current?" he whispered.
"What memory bleeds in the water?"
Guided by the voice, he descended along the riverbank until he found a clearing where the river breathed in silence.
There he saw the great serpent.
Yakumama rested surrounded by cool mist; her rainbow scales lit up the trees, and her starry eyes held the entire night.
Tahu bowed.
"Great Yakumama… why do you weep?"
The Mother’s voice rumbled like sweet thunder, like a thousand waterfalls speaking at once:
"I weep for the children of the future.
There will come times when hands
cut down the trees without hearing their song,
and the water will be wounded
without anyone healing its pain.
They will forget that the jungle is mother,
that the river is womb,
and that in my body
all things are born."
Tahu felt the Mother’s sorrow settle upon his spirit.
"When water is forgotten, life is forgotten."
"Tell me, Mother… what can I do to heal your sorrow?"
Yakumama lifted her rainbow head,
and time grew still.
"Promise to listen.
Promise to protect.
Promise to teach."
Tahu touched the moist earth and answered:
"I promise to honor your waters
and guide my people
along the path of respect."
Then Yakumama exhaled
an ancient breath:
the fish glimmered,
the trees bent,
and the wind held its silence to listen.
"I give you a gift, child of the forest: you will be able to converse with those who have no voice.
You will hear the jaguar and the hummingbird, the trunk and the root,
the thunder, the moss, and the river. They will show you the way
when I hide."
And so it was.
From that day, Tahu walked with the jungle as if sharing its blood. He learned the dreams of the water, the songs of the wind, the memories of the fire; and he taught his people that every leaf matters, that every drop breathes, that the forest is one single family.
"Water is bridge.
The forest, home.
Life, a single weave."
Over time, Yakumama stopped appearing to the world, but she never left: she remains in every rainfall, in every river that awakens, in every sprout that opens its eyes to the sun.
The elders say that if you sit by the water and listen with true respect,
you can hear her whisper:
"Care
Honor
Remember."
As long as there is a heart
that protects the pulse of water,
Yakumama will remain alive
in the liquid memory
of the eternal jungle.
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