why wait until the flowers fall apart

why wait until the flowers fall apart,
to realize that form is emptiness?

why wait until
the wind shakes the branches for the last time and the flower petals drift back to earth, the leaves shed their green and begin to bleed red and yellow,
the rain dries, floating up, then becomes ice, falling down.

why wait until then
to gaze at the moon,
then gaze beyond,
to see that everything,
everyone,
is already perfect?