"Anthem for the Bear"

by Robert Hunter

 Augustus Owsley Stanley the Third

being less a name than a designation,

the bearer of the appellation became,

of his own inspiration, The Bear.

Thus he became and thus remained

and every old timer worth salt has

a tale or two to tell regarding same:

of the time The Bear did this or that

incredibly singular, utterly apposite

action without apology or shame

to his own particular undying fame.

Unreachable, unteachable, aflame

in the light of his own magnificence

reflected in deeds dwarfing the achievements

of the run-of-the-mill creative sort

by a factor of ten or more,

King of Many Things was he

of mortal physiology,

the soul’s chemistry,

geography, geology,

not to mention the

applied physics of sound,

regarding which, deaf in one ear,

he pronounced stereo to be

a distraction affording only

one perfect seat in the house

upon which to work its elusive illusion

setting himself to design the world’s

most powerful hi-fi system to prove it!

One suspects that, had he but one leg

he’d have seen the advantage in that

and invented accordingly, ingeniously

and, it goes without saying, successfully.

Lovable and loving in the abstract

effusiveness was not his hold card;

his judgments swift, certain and irrevocable

the last word was his personal property.

For the few times he was wrong

there is no accounting.

Was there ever a man who changed so many

while, himself,  changing so little?

A Cardinal Sign, were there ever one,

fixed like a bright white star in dark-blue heaven.

Save sentimental eulogies for lesser men

and leave it that he was King of Many Things,

of perfected personal taste and detailed opinion,

first and last a scientist and propounder

of a brand new species of reason.

No bucolic Heaven for such as Bear,

rather a Rock of Ages from where

an eagle in full flight might dare

a sudden detour into endless dawn.

Sail on, dear brother Bear, sail on

            Robert Hunter

       March 20, 2011