In the morning, the sun bursts over the horizon, and sunbeams begin
   filtering through dancing leaves at forest edges, casting shafts
   through misty rising dew.
   The pansy knows. They have been waiting with baited stoma, pulling
   water up from their roots, taking breaths of air.
   The sunbeams begin striking the leaves of the pansy, a kiss here, and
   splash there, and it tastes sweet and so filling. The morning birds and
   squirrels share in the excitement, singing and chattering as the wind
   speckles everyone with dancing shafts of brightness through sparkling
   leaves.
   The pansy is in their home with their loved ones, and their day is only
   just beginning.