“When I See You”

There’s a sacredness in truly seeing someone—their pain, their grace, their becoming. This piece is for the moments when “I see you” means “I see the God in you.”

I’ve spent most of my life asking God to send me someone who could see me—not fix me, not save me, just see me. Maybe that’s why this poem found me first. He has sent three people who said, “I see you.” I believe they did. I am here, not invisible. 

“When I See You”
by Adena M’lynn
Spoken word

When I say, “I see you,”
I don’t mean it like eyesight—
I mean it like soul-sight.

Like—
I see the ache behind your smile,
the prayers you never wrote down,
the storms you outlasted quietly.

I see the fingerprints of God
still wet on your becoming.

When I say, “I see you,”
I mean I’ve stopped long enough
to notice the divine thumbprint
in the dirt and the tears.

Love can be loud—
a word we throw like confetti.
But seeing?
Seeing is worship.

Because when I say, “I see you,”
I’m saying,
“I see the God in you—
the rainbow still trying
to break through the rain.”

And maybe that’s what He meant
when He said,
“I will never leave you.”
Because He keeps showing up
in color,
in light,
in us—
until we learn to say it back,

“I see You.”
And mean it.
More than love.
More than words.
A holy recognition.
A covenant—
between Creator
and the created.