Rocks on the Shore

If everything you hate about yourself were rocks upon the shore, I'd gather them from the beach and love them evermore. I'd tuck them in my pocket with the others I've discovered, Then display them with my love, and keep them all uncovered. For the things you loathe about yourself, my dear, Are the very things I cherish and hold near. Each crack and jagged edge, a story left untold, A testament to strength, more precious than pure gold. The roughness that you hide, the softness that you fear, Are the parts that make you whole, the things I hold most dear. So let me show you, love, the beauty in the flawed, In every piece of you, I see the hand of God