The little pink flower who could

Where were the promised blue sky, the green foliage, and the winged friends she had been dying to meet? She looked about her despondently. She squinted through the enveloping darkness and looked for a sign of warmth, a patch of sunshine. She craned her stalk and bent her little petals as far as she could, but of no avail. She drooped a little, and sent out a little sigh. 

Perhaps I should wait a little while, thought the little pink flower. Maybe this is the great darkness I have been told of, the fleeting period of dark, meant for us to close up our petals and prepare to bloom again the next day. Yes, the little pink flower was quite sure that it was only night. Only a few hours of this maddening murkiness, and then, she would feel the warmth of the sun on her slim back, and feel her petals gently opening up to the heavens. She quivered with delight, and kept herself very still and very quiet, and waited breathlessly for sunrise. 

The little pink flower waited. It must be about time now, she thought. Any moment now, she straightened herself out, and waited for the sun to shine on her, and the birds to chirp their cheerful song of the morning. Alas, the poor pink flower, she waited in vain. For her, there was no sun, no sweet birdsong, and she gave up in despair. The young flower was tired and crestfallen. Her brilliantly coloured petals were losing their sheen, and she wilted a little more inside, when she thought longingly of the world outside, waiting for her. She let out a great sigh of anguish.

The long green leaves heard a sad little sigh emanating from their midst, and they looked at each other  quizzically. Was that you? They asked each other. None of the solemn old leaves knew who had sighed so heartbreakingly, and they waved gently in the breeze, searching for the source of the sad little sigh. A little green leaf, a young, inexperienced little fellow, spoke up. He told the Ancient Ones, sirs, I think it was a little pink flower trying to bloom beneath us. The long, thin green leaves frowned and consulted with one another. They accosted the poor young one. Are you sure, little one? It is not your eyes playing tricks on you again is it? The little green leaf shook his head respectfully and told them – sirs, if you would kindly make way for her, she is drooping dreadfully, and is in dire want of warmth. The long old ones peered at their depths, and sure enough, there they saw – the little lone pink flower with cast-down petals. They solemnly made way for her, and conspired with the breeze to arrange themselves around her. They prodded her gently with their still-green tips, and she woke up with a startled tremble.  
The little pink flower, with tears of gratitude glistening on her slim stalk, rose up, up and above the leaves. She unfurled her petals under the gaze of the cheery sun, and let free her pink heart to the blue sky above.