If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near;
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanished gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.
They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt;
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
The strong gods pine for my abode,
“Fly” here might mean the way one “flies” a flag, only Brahma is conceived as a bird. Or “fly” here might mean “flee,” and the “wings” may be chasing the person in flight. Brahma (or the oversoul) is what enables action to take place; without Brahma and the interconnectivity of everyone’s powers, we’d all be stones in the road.