Mabon is finished. Starting of new leads conscious of the old trails and of any stone encountered before. Stones are now part of the path instead of blocking it. As long as I can see they were stones. Gifts are given, sorrow forgiven and light fades up with a smile over the face.
Sun is no more, dark night blossoms as an eternal reminder of the the blessings given and to be given.
Rituals thankfully repeated are the winged desire of a better now, in which the past is the lesson to be learned before ascending to what is aimed.
But enough talk.
Do is the right verb now.
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