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Who knew

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Who knew
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Who knew that the kindness of a butterfly would pollinate a rose that would bloom becoming pleasing to one man’s eye.

Who knew that through the pain an eagle would glide above the hurricane finding peace from the stinging rain.

Who knew that two hearts would form a new beginning from their two ends two hearts become lovers birthed out of the trials of their faith these two hearts find an embrace.

Who knew that the feud kindled by their haters and debaters fueled from their actions would strengthen their attraction.

Who knew when two hearts become one the darkness that covered would be rebuked by the blinding light of their love exuding protruding from two hearts become one.

Who knew how few would be excluded or how many where included baring witness to vows up held despite the plait to end all they sacrificed to fight for they’re two hearts become one they stand upheld by the strength obtained from heavens Son these two hearts become one.

Who knew that these two hearts would agree to be joined on task treasuring the present valuing the past planting seeds for the future reaping a harvest that would last.

Who knew two hearts could do what’s been done with eye’s looking forward guided by Gods Son who knew that years later these two hearts still remain young for these two hearts are become one…

The tragedies that plague our world tend to spark the unification of Families, peace Communities, & Countries to fight against the entities that pray on the vulnerable. It only takes the collective thoughts of one person to change the world they see- which in turn has an impact on so many others, some for the better & some for their own destructive greed- don’t be the later: But rather let us all make an effort in our own way to become as a whole a company of World Changers. This is…

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Morning Sunrise
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Awakened conscience eye’s open to the world around this morning seems strange the wind breaths a degree of change stretching to apply paint to frame picture a world where people feel the pain of their equal human beings respecting each life made sweeter then the ripest peach a world where children reflect the wisdom of their teach preached on soap boxes become outposts for truth a world where greed is disregarded more focus directed towards good works started imagine a world where no evil hails a world where love is pure and honest each man extending a helping hand to brake the barrier of division with the impact of a sledgehammer incision a world where there are no strangers the only funerals arranged are to bury anger next to hatred a world where the dreams of your neighbor are as crucial as your own significant as flesh to bone a world where true peace is found beyond ones home imagine a world where social status lines are erased and each man runs at his own pace a world where joyful tears wet faces no more pain burning from the flame of the insane…. Awakened conscience eye’s open to the world that is your own… How will you imagine it’s sunrise…?

“The voice of a writer is heard through his instrument- which has a story all it’s own” – Edward T. This is…

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Hear Me…
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

I lay waiting patiently for my purpose-full activation, laying my eye’s upon the view of my value- which is a subjective perspective. I am a subject to the vision of He who holds me in hand. I sit waiting for the time I am made useful, I’m so full of his expressions, I sit ready to shed my life source until I have nothing else to give; it’s my purpose to die that his vision may live.

I am an extension of his soul; through me his thoughts exist bringing life to imagination when I’m gripped in hand. I’m honored to be his tool, his voice in a two dimensional universe.

Each word written has the power to influence the mind, each paragraph defines what he see’s, even his eye’s are connected to me.

In the Muse we become one entity- he is me. Here in the depths of meditation he retreats to his castle in the sky.

The Dream Writer is what I call him, the pureness of inspiration is what I saw in him, so I called to him.

When he picked me up I became the currier of his deepest emotions. I feel his pain as each letter soaks in. You see, with me he escapes into paradise: with me he breaths life to a blank canvas, each word closely woven into his soul. The melody created in each depicting phrase is something divinely provoked, each statement a musical note.

With a thousand words he paints a perfect portrait of…

I…

I am his release.

I am the vehicle of his peace.

I am his silent friend…

I am his Pen….

Resting in the bosom of my love I hear the whispers of her heart; This is…

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Language of the Heart
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat…

Your heart speaks the language of love. The heat of our flames stir up a spiral flared staircase facing upwards towards hidden desires. Intoxicating are the depths of your eye’s, they reveal to me a soul secured in the Ark of Endearment, carried away by waves of silk and satin the garments of passion; taking breaths in as we step into a blue paradise, loves heights.

Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat…

Your heart speaks an eloquent riddle in my ear, seductive whispers I hear: Each word a puzzle peace carefully placed, a glorious portrait they paint; each subtle cares of the canvas sends chills through the core of my existence; by reasons unknown I am subdued by your loves tone.

My Will is stolen away by a symphony blending you and I- Each touch must be a thrust through the heart beating, seeking….

Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat…

Tell me O heart; what other Dreams can you speak…?

Isn’t it funny how at the end of the hectic situations we go through in life we can look back and see things so clearly. The very thing you thought would be your undoing was actually your stepping stone to greatness…, only if we could see that while where going through the seeming adversities of our lives; I think this scripture says it best ( James 1: 2-4 ) My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. This is…

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20-20
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Yes Hind Site is 20-20: But isn’t it funny how we run through life making decisions not even thinking twice,

Until we’re face to face with the consequences of the actions of the mind, struggling to see that all things make since after time,

But again my wish for me & those who think back looking at regrets is that we could look at our situations as perfect.

I desire that we would see that all things are for our good.

Only if I could believe what I see by faith. I would receive the strength that comes in the prayers that run to the throne of Grace…,

Only if I could see that the future is working for me; maybe then I would desire to hold on-

I would desire to stay in the land of the living giving thanks for each day:

But I digress & again I say, “hind site is 20-20 isn’t it funny…?”

I

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‘I’
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

I grasp the clouds & part them as a scroll,
I look at my creation & peer into every man’s soul,
My every thought displayed, in the sway of trees.
The animation of life & their gift of days are from me.
I pour out my rain upon creation,
I humble myself to watch it grow;

Then I gathered that which was mine before the foundations of time. I dwelt among you myself to see this done. My blood was shed to seal the ones I chose to be.
I opened the eye’s of those who couldn’t see;
At my rebuke death was turned away.

I AM the giver of miracles.

I AM the gift of healing,

I AM the source of wisdom & knowledge.

I AM joy, love, & peace.

I call to you my children COME;
My face I command you to SEEK….

Hope you’ve had a great 4th of July everyone, This poem was inspired by the beautiful day I enjoyed with my family; This is…

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Create a Day
Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Each morning brings a new canvas to paint so I think that this day will display all that my God has created the soft subtle breeze the lushes clouds that lie in a brilliant blue ski, snow kissed mountain peaks peek through the soft haze, trees reaching towards the sun wishing to be kissed by one blessed ray of glory, this portrait tells a story of the glory of my Awesome King, painted on this canvas are the smiles of many driven by the elusive sun to run to a place where it can cares their faces as they taste the day. I wish I could stay in this place this perfectly detailed portrait so lit with joy, for this day was painted for me to see that all things have their time, I thank God that this day has been declared as mine. Looking over the contrasting coolness of each wave I feel saved from the stresses that clouded my sight: I feel far from the fears that caused me fright. This day has been framed in memory. This day that was painted just for me….

The Martyr Chronicles PT. 4

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‘The Homecoming’
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

My eyelids expand to the command:”BEHOLD the Pearl Gates”. An Angel escorts me in through the realm of Faith: the power of grace hits me like twenty tons of weights- I fell as one dead.
“Arise my brother”, the Angel said. “you are amongst fellow overcomer’s who hungered for the same spirit that dwells in you, through the valley they came despising the shame victory they’ve obtained”. I walked through the midst of bowed faces hearing their victorious song of redemption, praises fill the atmosphere, we are the remnant: the ones the world cursed and spat out: But now the triumphant has sung. None could have separated me from the origin of love.

I see a great throne & a place that’s my own, a place prepared for me to dwell, at the feet of the Lamb of God, Forever thankful for the good fruit I still reap. I AM home…, an angel taps my shoulder, he points to a seat & instructs me to sit, he touches my mouth, his fingers burning with intense heat, then he releases his hold, simply saying, “Now Speak….”

This poem has the hints of passion, seduction, & sexuality meant to stir up the fire of desire, (for mature readers only), I believe that this is an area in a Christian Marriage that can be easily neglected, let’s fix that, let’s start enjoying the one person God meant for you to make a life long connection with. This is…

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A Passionate Connection
by Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

One life, one passion, one question I’m asking, will you take my hand & come with me on a trip through loves land? Life flows fast when we push past the past to engage in the elements of loves construct; dabbling in lustful mischief, karma sutra got us twisted up in bedroom misconducts. Up-wards & on-wards climax seek’n. observing your learning curves as I’m peaking; my skill set just met the challenge of releasing your corralled assets, bounce’n bed springs like bad checks; our love making’s creating E.T. sex. I’m on a mission to resolve all your sexual tension’s. Call me an attentive student, ask’n your body questions as the strokes get deeper, each quiver is much sweeter than the last. I’m just living in the moment, no future, no past doing everything I can to make you a permanent fan, strictly following passions plan. Our bodies intertwined, at-one-meant that we’re meant to be together, created separate yet we’re gathered up in loves net. Together we lay captive upon the marriage bed wrapped in blankets of passion where our love connects….

The Martyr Chronicles PT 3

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‘The Final Moments’
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

I awake to find myself once again behind bars looking at the scars on my wrist, I still feel the pain from the whips, my blood drips to the tip of this pen my tears fall to the ground, as I begin to think about the persecution I went through for the glory of Christ, think’n if I had to do it again I’ll still give my life; until death I’m preach’n Christ with my last breath- as I give God the glory a left hook hits my cheek my bodies weak pounding like the bass in a beat; the guards toss me back in my ceil, like I’m some rotten meat. I’m starten to fell scared but I know my Lord is strong so I got to go on in “Mans prison” sing’n my song of freedom: here they come to take me to the chopping block, they slap me in my face & they tell me to “STOP PRAISiNG GOD”, but I can’t- a true saint will never renounce Christ, for His glory I’ll lay down my life….

I take my last steps through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for I know the Lords with me during this time, I hear the chime of the church bells, I’m seeing pictures of saints that where slan before the foundations of time: I’m seeing visions of the throne room- I guess I’ll be die’n soon, for the crime of being a Christian? It’s time for my last words listen; as I tell the guards, “LET EVERY THING THAT HAS BREATH PRAISE YOU LORD”, at that same moment I felt the cold steal from a sword pierce my side; I see a vision of pearl gates…
…as I close my eye’s….