Blame

Can’t you hear it crackling?
Blame hides fire.
The flame flicks outwards.
You! Him! Them! Not me.
The heat of blame is a finger,
pointed away – keep it away.

Blame feels hot and righteous.
But it’s a trick, a sleight-of-hand. A lie
that burns both ends of the finger.
Blame hides fear.
I might combust! Conflagration!
Blame’s a fiery ruse.

Why did she blame me? Who do I blame?
I’ve tried to get round to living
life as simply What Is.
Days I arrive at that perspective,
the fuel of fault, and to whom it belongs,
curls up into nothing in the air.

With repeated steely effort
I change the habit, give it up like smoking.
I’m learning to trick the trick.
I practice no-blame every day,
and pour my cool water thoughts –
quick! dousing the illusion of blame.

©Susa Silvermarie 2025