The turbaned head, dark skin and black, black hair

belongs to a Canadian now Governor of Afghanistan.

Races merging everywhere; in Canada or in Japan

now no easy way to tell who’s wheat and who is tare.

I’m not annoyed as old boundaries fall

I became engrossed in earlier things -

the holy liturgy and how it sings.

Mirabile dictu! Opening up the Church to all!

We are half there, not yet translating older words

into the thinking of the present time,

half out of date and half renewed; I’m

supping from a bowl, part cream and partly curds.

In Canada we have not found, as yet

how Christ would speak today and people not forget.