Tired

Exhaustion course through my being like wind through a tunnel, once started, a resounding howl that can not be suppressed. I had relished in my labor, not wanting to stop. Yet, when all has been said and done, I feel an emptiness so oppressing. Perhaps this is the way flowers feel at night, when after a day's basking in bees' adulation, succoring their needs, the bees to their hives return. The flowers are left behind, spent and alone. Still, I seek to bow towards the sun; but, G-d willing, let the day be far in which I bow too low.