The eastern shamanic legends tell that there was an evil Dragon that ravaged the forest, its only objective was the destruction of nature, this Dragon, feared the Panther, because it had such sweet breath that the simple opening of its mouth could destroy the Dragon, but he knew that the Panther, after eating, slept three days straight, and thus our legend begins...

The forest beings loved the Panther, because she was the only one to defend them from the Dragon, her look was so powerful, that when hunting, she lowered her eyes, so that her prey, which practically offered itself as food, would not have the Destroyed spirit, such is the power of his gaze!

On a certain day, after feeding, she jumped through the mountains and entered one of the caves to sleep, there, the Panther rested and dreamed of the stars...

The Dragon, aware of this, began his quest for destruction. Legends tell that he was an angry spirit, because he was told that nature was not created to serve him, this flooded him with hatred for the forest.

The Dragon flew over the forest and vomited its putrid poison on the trees, which withered screaming as only trees can scream. The poison flowed through the mountains and valleys, burning everything that was alive. The Serpents, great alchemists, could not transmute all the poison that the Dragon incessantly vomited, and this continued its destruction.

The great Tiger warrior dug his claws into the poison, his efforts were futile, but it was all he could and knew how to do to defend the jungle. Wolves ran in desperation trying to hide their young and howled in supplication to Heaven for something to help them, Bears wept, Fish recited incantations, which could not cope with the demand for poison, animals gathered resigned and their tears soothed the Earth, but it knew it would be annihilated.

A little Nightingale, sad and wounded, seeing all this, went away to the mountains and began his sad song:

“I am the light that goes out. My song and that of the jungle are the same. Sad the end of my mother. Sad the end of my beloved. Mama Jungle is gone. Mama Jungle is gone. The panther will no longer flow through the shadows. No more…"

He didn't know it, but behind him, the cave opened in which there was a cave, where the Panther had fallen asleep, and when he heard his name, the latter jumped up: - What's going on? Who sings such a sad melody at the entrance to the cave?

The Nightingale, hearing such a well-known cry, and feeling the Panther's sweet breath, changed the tune of the tune, and unhesitatingly sang of the Dragon's cruelty, and the glories of ancient fights, and what was to come.

The Panther roared with rage, his feline blood boiled under the mantle black as the infinite that was his skin, the cry of his intention was given: – Death, death is what the wind whispers in the eardrums of the Dragon!!!! May my breath reach your nostrils!!!!

Asking the great messenger Eagle for help, she was carried to meet the Dragon, who had already smelled her breath and was trying to flee, but in a jump the Panther stuck her claws into her neck, from which the thick and sticky blood of the Dragon. Crashing on the forest floor, the Dragon begged the Panther not to kill him, he cried and sobbed, but his look was the same... The Panther, in doubt, stopped for a moment, enough time for the Dragon to flee...

Outraged, the Panther consulted the great Phiton; the snake; that by her oracle, it was told where the Dragon went to hide: - In the hearts of Men. said the Priestess.

The Panther, once again, roared, and roared very loudly, so much so that the whole of Heaven was attracted, and said to the Panther: - Make love to me, and you will have the solution... That's what the Panther did, and immediately she became pregnant, and Heaven said to him: – Have your children where men live.

With the help of the Eagle, the Panther gave birth over the cities, and a phenomenon occurred; from her womb, thousands of sparkling rainbow-colored lights floated out. In her mind, the Panther heard the voice of Heaven: – These are your children, they were born as men and women, but their souls will be the same as yours, they will continue their fight, under your protection; for the work for which they were born. They will not be many, but they will be powerful, they will be subtle like the movement of the Moon, bright like the Sun, joyful like the sound of running water, firm like the trees, they will seek freedom and love the night, for it will remind them of their color, they will feel good during the day, because this will seem like their gaze, they will flow like their body during the hunt, they will be called Warriors, Shamans, crazy… But they will have, in their heart, the marks of your claw…”

And so Neo-Shamans were born and are born, accustomed and ready for battle...

(via shamanismo.com)

art: isabelmariposagalactica.com

Flauta Nativa Ashar