The B8007

There’s a new breed of spy

arising

in this land.

Double “Oh!” Seven.

Completeness out of nothingness.

“There’s a new breed of spy

called into

My

secret service.”

For the secret of the Lord

is with them that fear him.

Have it on your lips,

engrave it on your heart.

Pay homage to the Son.

He is our Joshua

he looks for Caleb.

Who is for the high country?

Who is for Heavenly Zion?

And the angels in festal array.

The saints there wear faces as arrow heads,

all distraction gone.

Flint set in one direction; a throne ablaze. The beauty of holiness.

“Come! Come! My lovely one, come!

Seek the fire now.

Better now than then.

With what are you building?”

I heard it in the B road’s name.

I heard it when Sir Sean died.

I saw it in Daniel’s eyes, when he watched

the missiles come to strike.

“There’s a new breed of spy

arising

in my,

ascension.

Therefore my

beloved,

arise. Arise into my rest.”

Scotland, I prophesy

to your seers

to see

for I have heard the long forgotten

melody. His reward is with him.

Open up your eyes

and your dementia

will flee away,

as smoke is driven away,

or when the golden rose of dawn

comes to kiss the mist that carpets the glen.