Loving the Things (and People) We Love for What They Are

I've been thinking of a poem by Robert Frost called "Hyla Brook."  Do you know that one?

By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago,
Like ghost of sleigh-bells in a ghost of snow)--
Or flourished and come up in jewel-weed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat--
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are. 

This is a poem about a brook that runs strong in the spring, but by June is either dried up or has been taken over by weeds that are too weak to even stand up in the wind.  And the singing Hyla tree frogs that hang out when the brook is at its best have all disappeared.  By summer time, the brook is nothing to anyone other than those "who remember long."  But those who truly know the brook can see it with different eyes, even when it has dried up and gone underground.  As Frost says:  "We love the things we love for what they are."

I love this poem, because we are all like that brook.  Some days I do feel like a "faded paper sheet" or like "weak foliage that is blown upon and bent," and anyone observing me at that moment in time wouldn't know my potential to be more and better than my current self. 

And truth be told, the people I love most in this world are sometimes like that brook in June, "run out of song and speed."  But because I have seen them in one of their "springtimes" -- so beautiful and vibrant (with the Hyla breed "shout[ing] in the mist") -- I can (try to) see them with those same eyes even in drought.  I can (strive to) be one who "remembers long."  When someone I love least deserves it, that's when I try to try the hardest to serve and to love -- incanting softly as I go "We love the things we love for what they are" and "We love the things we love for what they are."  

It works for me.  It might work for you.  What do you do to see yourself or someone you care about for what you/they are?