Bodhi

It took jackboots – and jaw-jaw –

to awaken the Bodhi.

A hob-nailed, bullying, militarised madness of total war. Reckless nihilism.

But out of the darkness came the light.

Adam. Moses. Shepherding the weak. Re-creating life.

A Minister for Health – a Bodhisattva – born in the beginnings of the brain and the furnace of war.

Protector, preacher, for a flock in turmoil.

For every Buddha – every Bevan – follows the same path. The same struggle…

The care of the sick.

The infirm.

The vulnerable.

Call it Dharma. Call it love. Call it hope.

Call it the NHS.

Re-fashioning the World from the shards of war.

Doctors from bullets. Nurses from chaos.

Midwives from death. Porters from bombs. Hope from despair.

Like a sermon from the Tredegar Mount. The National Health Service Act – a Book of Genesis. July 5th, 1948.

And like all great stories, the end is always Nye.

(Poet in Residence at the Dylan Thomas Birthplace).