Expectation

I love you so very much.
When you were a bud, the expectation that you would bloom
gave me joy;
when you had opened a little,
I was so glad because I expected you to open fully.
When you were in full bloom,
I was glad because people delighted to see you;
when your petals were falling,
I was glad because I knew you would bear seed.
But why are you anxious?
When you were a bud, you grieved, restless over when you would bloom;
when you had opened a little, you grieved that you were not in full bloom;
and when you were in full bloom, you grieved for fear you would wither.
What do you think?
Do you see how truly different your thoughts are from mine?