THE CLIFFS OF MOHER: A Past-Life Memory Novel by Shaffer William

Author:Shaffer, William
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-22T00:00:00+00:00

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Cathbad sat as usual upon a large stone, his beautifully tapered long fingers stretched but immobile across his lap harp. It was, as usual, night, and the dark sky was filled with sparkling stars and a crescent moon.

He was again, as he always was, sitting upon his dream shore, the white sand of the beach luminescent beneath his feet. The incoming sea waves pounded inland in steady. white-foamed and curling caps, the roar of the tides reverberating around him as if they were persistent layers of distant thunder.

His naked body, clad only in a white loincloth and sandals, shone like the sand, his broad shoulders and beautifully muscled arms and chest smooth and white as ivory. Thick, wavy brown hair stirred gently in the night breeze.

Cathbad was, again as usual, frustrated. His body throbbed with waves of creative passion, matching the thundering and crashing ocean waves inside his body like the incoming sea tides upon the beach. Loving joy and grieving sorrow wrestled in a competitive torment between one another as they vied for and desperately demanded absolute attention, release and expression.

The words and the music Cathbad needed to compose existed always at the furtherest corners of his awareness, just an agonising millimetre beyond his conscious ability to grasp them, reel them in and contour them into poetic expression. He ached with the unexpressed emotions, the sense of inner music, the desire to portray his inner self creatively. But always, it was just out of reach. It was so agonisingly painful.

Cathbad continued to sit for what seemed like days, yet the sun never rose, moved across the sky or set. Always it was night, the crescent moon moving not at all from its point just above the distant horizon. His heart ached with the need to compose and from the inability to do so.

Suddenly, a woman sat before him, blindfolded, black hair braided and bound behind at the nape of her neck. She wore a full-length gown of sheer, silvery luminescence. Her arms crossed in front of her breast, each hand holding a glittering sword.

Cathbad now held his lap harp protectively against his chest as he stared in awe at the Dream Lady. After a few moments she uncrossed her arms and lay down the swords upon the sandy, ethereal-white beach on either side of her. With a grin and a giggle she lifted the blindfold just enough to reveal a peeking green eye, then threw off the blindfold completely and tossed it laughingly aside.

“My dear Cathbad,” her joyful, sparkling voice sang. “Why do you insist on keeping me blindfolded and at cross purposes?”

Cathbad blinked and shook his head slightly, taken completely unprepared for either her dramatically sudden presence or her casual, even playful expression. He was blindfolding her? What cross purposes did she refer to, that the cross swords across her breast had obviously symbolised? This had never happened in his dreamtime before. Was something wrong, or did this mean instead that something was finally right?

The novice bard stammered some sounds and cleared his voice with self-conscious uncertainty.

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