Because he lived till 1977,
his hair as white as wool
surviving the effects both of the bomb
his throne flames of fire
and of the great liturgical reform,
with wheels of burning fire
he would have heard, on the remembered day
a stream of fire, surging
each year in his last seven, the new readings
clouds and darkness about him
from Daniel and the 97th Psalm
the mountains melting like wax.
