Whispered in the Ear of The Dog, by Otis Sprow

The Dog, by Francisco de Goya (Spain) 1820-1823

Whispered in the Ear of The Dog
​
Oh, the swelling mound
— round--
coming out from nowhere.
Now. 

Go up you must,
without explanation
for any existence of it
or why it came. 

Even if you cannot know what it is,
at least you want to know
what is next.

Will the view 
from this new top be enough?
 
Bedeviling in appearance,
will it rise further against you
or,
can you ride it? 

Whichever,
this is a lostness
in which there is no choosing
with neither soaring blue above,
nor sparkling splash below.

For this is the immediacy found
in having to mount
the back of barrenness. 

Here is not a question of agreement
or non-agreement.
That is not in the air.

There is only the need to surmount
what you can presently see.
 
Even should you be a lion,
this would not help. 

From a somewhere,
a far off,
you overhear a familiar name,
barely.
Yours?
 
Time to stand up your ears
and do what is right in the sight of your eyes.
 
Do not waiver in your will
because of vastness.

Vastness is.

It will always be.
And here you cannot stay. 

​For after all,
if you fail,
you could not leave behind
everything you know.

Otis Sprow

Otis is a poet who lives in Baltimore, Maryland where he is a frequent presenter at various Open Mic nights in the area. He has been the poet opening the 2022 Secretary's Award ceremony (U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development) and is also the author of a single-writer poetry anthology available on Amazon (600 pages).